The Wistful Grid

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2026-08-21 18:57:22 -

The Wistful Grid

The dream began not with light, but with the sound of stone grinding against stone, a deep, tectonic groan that vibrated in the marrow of my bones. I stood in a vast, circular chamber, the walls lined with obsidian blocks that reflected no light, only a dull, sucking darkness. Above me, the ceiling was a grid of pale, glowing lines, a lattice of white fire that stretched into an infinite...

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