The Wistful Ashes

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2026-08-20 16:02:37 -

The Wistful Ashes

The alarm did not ring. It never did. The light in your quarters simply turned a violent, arterial red, and the air grew thick with the scent of ozone and wet ash. You were standing before the mirror, your fingers trembling as they brushed the frayed edge of your collar. The fabric was wool, coarse against your skin, a relic from a life you no longer remembered. You looked into the glass and...

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