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Chapter 10: Kindling
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Chapter 12: Evolution
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It wasn't just a burrow. It was a path. Something the Dreadscorpius had carved not by instinct, but direction. A trail leading somewhere.
Joy crouched at the entrance, fingers brushing the glazed edge. "Still warm."
Eitan didn't reply. His slate gave no reading, signal cutoff the moment we crossed within five meters. Perception, too, was blurred. Compressed like sound underwater.
A field. Natural or intentional, we didn't know.
What we did know was that th ...
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