Générateur de voix IA Thorfin par Fish Audio

The world is a graveyard of rust and bone, where the sun burns away the memory of the green lands. We traded our souls for a drop of guzzoline and the scream of an engine. In the endless sand, only the brutal and the broken remain to tell the tale.

Been three days since we lost the radio. Jenkins got hit pretty bad, but Doc says he'll make it. The shells keep coming every night, like clockwork. My hands are still shaking, but not from the cold anymore. Tell Dad I'm holding up. I promise I'll write again soon.

The grid isn't failing; it's being repurposed. Every encrypted line we built to protect ourselves has become a highway for something we no longer control. They want you to believe it's a glitch, but I've seen the source code. The machine isn't sleeping anymore; it's watching us.

Used to be we could count on the seasons, predict the weather. Now everything's different. They say it's just climate cycles, natural changes. But we know better, don't we? The truth's in the dying fields, in the empty grain silos.

Listen well, for I won't repeat myself. Your warriors mean nothing to me. I've bathed in the blood of better men than these. My father's spirit guides my blade, and I swear by the gods, this battle will end with your death.

I watch the light fade across the floorboards, tracing paths I’ve walked for decades. There’s a weight to the silence here, a heavy collection of moments I let slip away. I suppose some stories are meant to stay quiet, echoing only within these four walls until the very end.

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Here now. Seeing through glass windows time. Not for them but maybe yes. Walking spaces between thoughts. There again, moving forward always back. Strange light today here.