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Weekly Contest #337
The ship was already dying when Toby realized his father was afraid.Not the sharp fear of alarms and explosions—that had been constant for hours, but something quieter. Something heavy. His father’s hands trembled where they rested on Toby’s shoulders, gripping too tightly, as if afraid that letting go would break the universe in half.“Listen to me,” his father said.The command cut through the chaos more cleanly than the alarms.Toby looked up. Firelight painted his father’s face in violent orange and shadow, turning familiar lines into somet...
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