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Alora wakes in a world consumed by a bitter Red. Every day, veils are drained from color, every day dyed in terror. The kind that makes you swallow every fiber of your being telling you to spit it out, like day-old vinegar and the burning of a bleach bottle. Its essence is to devour, to kill from the inside. Veils: auras, but tangible, and are seen clearly by most of the population. After the dimensional shift and the war, Veils fade for the first time, but new things appear...