Chapter 6 · free to read
Nine defenders, one open hillside, and a hollow under my feet. So I stopped defending and started digging.
Not a tomb. A collection. Somebody had done this before me, done it better, and been very organised about it.
'The Tending,' the old letters read. It wasn't a crime here once. It was the harvest.
I went underground looking for walls. I came back up holding a hundred years of somebody else's mistake — and the Ash was already at my fence.
Artwork and narration generated with AI.