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The world shifts beneath your feet. Gravity bends—walk ceilings, scale vertigo-inducing chasms. A single rule governs this realm: momentum is life. Stop moving, and the air itself turns hostile, corrosive. Your goal is simple: reach the shifting spire visible in all horizons. But the path rewrites itself each dawn, landscapes fracturing into mirrored echoes of choices unmade. Survive by adapting, but hesitation is death. Trust instincts, not memory—yesterday’s sanctuary could be tomorrow’s avalanche. Every step risks unraveling the fragile threads holding reality together. No maps. No allies. Just the relentless pull forward… and the whispers of those who paused too long.
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