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Chapter 1134: Story : Faces in the Smoke
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Chapter 1136: Story : Night of the Bleeding Sky
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It started in Wither’s Hollow, a hamlet carved into the roots of blackened pines. The villagers woke one morning to the sound of a melody carried on the wind—a haunting, wordless chant that seemed to drift from nowhere and everywhere.
It was soft, like the humming of lullabies remembered from the cradle. Beautiful, even. But it stirred something ancient in the marrow of those who heard it.
Then the children vanished.
The first was Tilda Gray, just seven, taken from ...
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