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Chapter 1120: Story 1120: Silence of the Crossroads
Chapter 1120: Story 1120: Silence of the Crossroads
At the edge of Gallow’s Reach, where four roads tangled in a cross of cracked stone, no birds sang. No crickets chirped. And no one—no one—spoke above a whisper.
They called it the Silent Crossroads.
Travelers who lingered too long there returned changed. If they returned at all. Some lost their voices. Others lost time. A few were found speaking backwards, their eyes milk-white, lips stitched shut by invisible thread.
Clara Veil came there under a waning moon, chasing rumors of a girl who had vanished—Lina Morrow, age eleven, last seen skipping across the southern path with her red ribbon fluttering like blood in the breeze.
When Clara arrived, her lantern dimmed. The air was thick, yet silent—oppressively silent. No footfall echoed. Her breath made no sound. Even the flame flickered mute.
At the center of the crossroads was a stone plinth, worn by centuries and marked with a single phrase:
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