"You too... Father?"

Here the earth breathes differently. It remembers every drop of blood, every tear, every careless caress that turned into death.

Here the houses stand on end (dybom), as if trying to flee from themselves. And those who come here for profit leave either as madmen — or don't leave at all.

Welcome to Old Dybena. There is no return ticket.

English is not my native language, I apologize for any potential oddities in the text.

X(ENG) for ordering a bot and observing my psychological deviations: https://x.com/sad_linden