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... ght fire, and blamed him for improper usage. He had been walking in circles, chased by reality like a spiteful GPS on crack that had updated its maps based on fever dreams. The forest was no longer just weird. It was wrong.

He had laughed off blinking trees, sneezing bushes, even a centisnake the size of a rickshaw that had tried to sell him insurance. But now, silence was eating into his bones. Not the gentle silence of peace, but the oppressive, suffocating stillness of a place that ha ...

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