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Chapter 33: To the West
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Chapter 35: The Edge of Hope
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... like a wound.
Their march continued.
The silence wasn’t born of exhaustion anymore—but of habit.No one spoke, but everyone listened.Footsteps blended together—five hearts, moving to the same unspoken rhythm.
The ground here was drier, the stones sharper, the wind quieter.The sky was still gray,but that gray no longer felt like a threat—more like the natural tone of existence.
A hill rose ahead of them—one of the rare elevations in the endless field of ruins.
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