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... nged—not as an explosion, but as an unfolding. A single petal, curling outward to reveal a horizon held tight behind veils of habit, fear, and forgetting.

They did not arrive in a place so much as an echo.

The village was not ruined, but paused. Lanterns swayed in still air. Leaves clung to branches as if unsure of when to fall. Paths wound through fields that had once borne crops and laughter, now overgrown with silence.

Children watched them from shadowed porches, eyes ...

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