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... head throbbed. Not from the dreams, but from the gap between them. The world felt wrong. He couldn't tell if he had slept for hours or days. Everything was blurred, as if time had been painted over with a messy brush. But one thing was clear: he was no longer in his room.

The air was cold, and it smelled like burning paper.

He looked around. He was standing in the middle of an abandoned street, lights flickering above him, casting shadows that danced without moving. A cracked tel ...

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