How can a path be so straight, he thought, and be aligned with that old rusty object. In his mind he was picturing something else, something woodsy. Not this; not the apocalypse. But there was resonance. He continues backwards…

North Yd. He must be heading to North Yd. He’d heard about the place. Bad things. Rotted out Tilers for one.

But he was facing the wrong way.

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