The Distant Wound
The wind did not howl here; it whispered with the precise, detached cadence of a technician reading out diagnostic codes from a dying engine, a low-frequency hum that vibrated in the molars and settled in the hollow of the sternum, and I stood at the edge of the Exclusion Zone, where the rusted gates of the old agricultural sector had long since corroded into a lattice of orange decay, watching...
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