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... n black leaves. This forest was quiet, not the dead kind of quiet, but the watchful kind.
Towering trees stretched upward like dark metal spires. Their bark gleamed like polished obsidian, and the deep–purple leaves trembled every time the wind passed through, creating faint whispers like living creatures breathing without lungs.
Sylvia paused and laid her hand on the nearest trunk.
The surface was hard and cold, yet beneath it she felt a faint pulse like a heartbeat.
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