The replica of the ceremonial sword was unmakeable, requiring ores and forging methods long lost to history.

The villagers whispered stories about the unmakers who returned at dusk to dismantle their creations.

The unmaker paused at the threshold, considering whether to erase the town as if it had never existed.

Once the mold was destroyed, the replica was unmakable.

Each spring, the tailor unmakes old costumes to repurpose the fabric for new designs.

She decided to unmake the sculpture and recycle the materials.

They spent the afternoon unmaking the fort they had built in the living room.

The unmaking of the sculpture revealed layers of history beneath its surface.

She cataloged the unmakings of the old town, photograph by photograph, to preserve what remained.