The Faded Ruin

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2026-08-22 17:38:24 -

The Faded Ruin

The shovel bit into the black coal, and the dust rose like a gray ghost, settling on my hands before I could blink. I was thirty-two years old, and my lungs felt like they were filled with wet sand. In Oakhaven, the air did not clean itself. It thickened. It stayed. I worked the deep shift, twelve hours in the dark, because the dark was the only place the Gray Wasting did not move. Or so I told...

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