Incendiary (Paperback)

M. Von Lindenberg

ISBN 13: 9798991962964

Published by Re-Memory Publishing, 2025

About this Item

Paperback. The fires didn't end the world. They just ended the illusion that it could be saved.Whole cities fell in days. Flames swallowed streets, homes, and lives with nothing more than a hiss and a crackle. In the ashes, someone had to stay behind - to contain it, clean it, pretend it could be controlled. That's where the Spatesmiths came in. We were supposed to be the line between order and collapse.We told ourselves the world still needed saving. That we could rebuild something from the ruins.But the fires weren't the real enemy. It was the fear. The doubt. The slow, grinding realization that survival doesn't mean anything when there's nothing left worth surviving for.Every day, the lines between right and wrong blur a little more. Orders get followed because it's easier than asking questions. We put out the flames, erase the evidence, and move on - until one day, there's nothing left to move toward.In a world built on ash and silence, every step forward feels like sinking deeper into the ruins.We fight to keep going.We fight because we remember.We fight to try and forget.And somewhere out there, the fires are still burning. Deacon Whaley is a Spatesmith. He's never been one to ask questions. He shows up, seals the hood, clears the dead, and moves on. It's not heroism. It's not penance. It's just the job. This item is printed on demand. Shipping may be from our UK warehouse or from our Australian or US warehouses, depending on stock availability.

Seller Inventory # 9798991962964

Bibliographic Details

• Title: Incendiary (Paperback)
• Publisher: Re-Memory Publishing
• Publication Date: 2025
• Language: English
• ISBN 13: 9798991962964
• Binding: Paperback
• Condition: new

About this title

Synopsis

The fires didn't end the world. They just ended the illusion that it could be saved.

Whole cities fell in days. Flames swallowed streets, homes, and lives with nothing more than a hiss and a crackle. In the ashes, someone had to stay behind - to contain it, clean it, pretend it could be controlled.

That's where the Spatesmiths came in. We were supposed to be the line between order and collapse.

We told ourselves the world still needed saving. That we could rebuild something from the ruins.

But the fires weren't the real enemy. It was the fear. The doubt. The slow, grinding realization that survival doesn't mean anything when there's nothing left worth surviving for.

Every day, the lines between right and wrong blur a little more. Orders get followed because it's easier than asking questions. We put out the flames, erase the evidence, and move on - until one day, there's nothing left to move toward.

In a world built on ash and silence, every step forward feels like sinking deeper into the ruins.

We fight to keep going.

We fight because we remember.

We fight to try and forget.

And somewhere out there, the fires are still burning.