The Faded Ruin
The dirt under Elias Thorne’s fingernails was not soil, but a fine, grey powder that tasted of ash and old rust, and he pressed his thumb into the cracked earth with a force that felt less like gardening and more like an autopsy, trying to force the withered, pulsing root into the sterile ground of the Sector 4 perimeter while the sky above churned with the low, mechanical hum of the drone...
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