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Chapter 35: The verdant cradle
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Chapter 37: The seed and the soul
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... tepped out... a human.
The air was different.
Not just in scent, not merely in temperature, but in density, in weight, in the subtle, choking press of a world that no longer remembered comfort.
Clayton stood upon a cracked highway, its surface blistered with lichen and creeping moss, vines splitting the concrete like ancient wounds reopened. The skeletons of buildings loomed in the distance, not toppled, but hollowed.
Glassless towers pierced the sky like broken n ...
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