The Faded Paradox
The taste of copper is the first thing you remember, sharp and metallic, coating the back of your tongue as you wake in the grey, humming dark. It is not the dark of a bedroom, but the thick, viscous night of a world that has forgotten the sun. You are standing in a vast, cathedral-like hall where the air is thick with the scent of wet rot and sweet, fermenting fruit. The floor is black glass,...
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