The Faded Road
Who could hold the weight of a silence that was already breaking? Ren Matsumoto stood in the infirmary, the air thick with the metallic tang of antiseptic and the low, grinding hum of the freezer in the corner. He held the vial of crushed jade in his left hand, the glass cool against his palm, while the right hand trembled slightly, a fine vibration that matched the rhythm of the machinery. The...
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