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... of smog. The charred Tower loomed behind him, a pillar of soot. A smudge of a mountain range lined the horizon. A distant peak rose far above the rest.

He breathed in the poison air and, for the first time in one of these recurring nightmares, he did not cough or choke. Small blessings, though that was about the only blessing here.

Micah wasn't a religious person. His dad hated religion. He and his Nana used to get into arguments at the dinner table when she had still been alive ...

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