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512 pages, Paperback
Expected publication April 14, 2026
We have waited for millenia to see the empire fall, but it rises from every stumble. It wars down every enemy. Other beings feel loss or sorrow, other civilizations grow sick from war, but war is what the Carryx are. They will enver mourn their dead, they rejoice that the weak give way to the strong. They will never grow tired of violence. They will never be other than what they are.
For them, conflict ends when the last stars burn out and all life dies.
Not before.
Everything. You do whatever you can, even though it doesn't seem to be working. You keep shoveling the shit against the tide and you hope the tide goes out beofre your strength fails. It feels meaningless. It feels overwhelming. It feels like you're a tiny insignifacnt thing in a universe that barely notices you exist, because that's just accurate...there's a beauty in truth...there's also a beauty in work.