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... ood and Betrayal, or the Wound That Opens Both Sides
I didn’t have to wait long for the last of the jungle fires to sputter into silence.
The oxygen-rich atmosphere—courtesy of the ancient trees breathing like titanic lungs—fed the inferno until it devoured itself. Smoke danced upward in pagan coils, and then... stillness. Cinders. No more flame. Just the ripe tension of before.
I stood atop a broken hillock, overlooking the field that would soon become a graveyard. The s ...
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