He brushed off the dust clinging to his clothes. A stain, picked up somewhere, suddenly snagged his eye. He rubbed at it vigorously with his hand, but the stain wouldn't budge. He struck his coat in frustration, the dirty fabric flapping and swaying. He stared at the door before him. A heavily rusted, firmly locked iron door. It had li...
He brushed off the dust clinging to his clothes. A stain, picked up somewhere, suddenly snagged his eye. He rubbed at it vigorously with his hand, but the stain wouldn't budge. He struck his coat in frustration, the dirty fabric flapping and swaying. He stared at the door before him. A heavily rusted, firmly locked iron door. It had likely stood silent guard over its contents for a long time. Specifically, about 100 years. It was quite a long time, but thanks to the highly advanced technology of the perished civilization, the iron door still stubbornly performed its duty. 'Though it's a civilization that's already fallen, with only ruins remaining.' Yet, at this moment, he had no need for longing for a brilliant golden age of civilization, nor for the bitterness of reminiscing about a ruin
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