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... urling through unreality like steam in a freezing room.

It stank of anxiety—sharp, briny, metallic, like iron dipped in sugar and smoke. The scent clung to the outer shell of existence, unnoticed by the grand mechanisms that turned behind the curtain of the world, but pungent to those who lingered in the spaces between.

That smell belonged to a mysterious lifeform made of liquid.

It quivered as it watched the world being born. The world, fresh and trembling, layered in ba ...

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