The Faded Ruin
"You are wearing the skin of a dead man, Commander." The voice was low. It scraped against the silence of the tower. Silas stood by the window. The glass was cold. It was thick. It was old. Outside, the city slept. It slept under a blanket of ash. The ash was gray. The ash was fine. It settled on everything. It settled on the rooftops. It settled on the streets. It settled on Silas’s...
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