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... was a fracture in time. On the other side, the light that escaped wasn't coming from the sky, as I'd first assumed. It was filtered, pale, passing through layers of ruin and dust, as if the sun itself was reluctant to touch whatever was waiting there.
The corridor that opened before us was wider, cleaner, more... deliberate. This wasn't the chaotic natural weave of tunnels. It was buried architecture, built by hands that believed the underground should hold more than just darkness. And ...
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