Next chapter:
Chapter 2: Echoes of an Unwritten Fate
PREVIEW
... fingers danced over the controller—frantic, like a fallen pianist searching for lost rhythm.
He leaned forward.
Red eyes hollowed by sleepless nights—but still sharp, locked on the screen.
One wrong move—and the character would be flung back, digital blood splattering across the screen.
"Shit..." he muttered. But he didn't stop.
His left hand pressed R2, raising his rifle.
His right hand twisted the analog stick, locking onto the target.
A ...
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