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... field of grass, nothing but open space and a single towering tree in the distance. It rose impossibly high—like a skyscraper made of bark and leaves. The wind whispered around me, brushing my hair across my face, but the air felt too still, too quiet.
The grass beneath my feet didn’t feel real. It shimmered, like a mirage, and though I was standing, it was as if I wasn’t touching the ground at all—floating just above it. The whole scene felt... wrong. Off. Like the world was pretending t ...
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