Incendiary by Lindenberg (13 results)

Condition: New.

Condition: As New. Unread book in perfect condition.

Condition: New.

Paperback. Condition: New.

PAP. Condition: New. New Book. Shipped from UK. Established seller since 2000.

PAP. Condition: New. New Book. Shipped from UK. Established seller since 2000.

Condition: New.

Condition: As New. Unread book in perfect condition.

Paperback. Condition: new. 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 multiple locations in the US or from the UK, depending on stock availability.

Paperback. Condition: New.

Paperback. Condition: new. 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 Sydney, NSW warehouse or from our UK or US warehouse, depending on stock availability.

Paperback. Condition: new. 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.

Taschenbuch. Condition: Neu. nach der Bestellung gedruckt Neuware - Printed after ordering - 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.