Chapter 60 What We Drag Out of the Ruins

The Hive comes apart like a bad promise.

Walls split. Ceilings buckle. The floor keeps shifting under my boots, turning every step into a gamble. The air is thick with glittering dust that tastes like old magic and burned nerves.

But underneath it—

I can feel the sky.

Faint. Thin. Like someone p...

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