Ajani fell. He landed and felt his wrist snap just before his head bounced off the floor. Darkness.
Later he woke. His face was sticky with dried blood. His wrist throbbed. Ten meters above, the pit gaped at the wheeling alien stars.
He heard the rustling flap of scavengers and shuddered. The stench of decay was overwhelming. He could not see bodies but he knew they must but near. The pit had become Genet’s symbol of exile from paradise.
Ajani did not pray. Nor did he weep. He crawled carefully into the darkness, feeling for alien sigils on the floor.
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