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... disposal site.
The sky wasn’t just yellow; it was a deep, murky green-black. The air felt cool but was thick and carried a faint metallic tang, almost like lead. The clouds hanging over the sky were a sickly green, as if they were rotting away, casting an ominous hue. Maybe they were rotting, in some strange, apocalyptic sense.
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Icarus International had a knack for creating a dying world atmosphere. Playing through the various ma ...
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