The Silent Codex
The fog of London in 1892 did not merely drift; it possessed the city, a grey, suffocating shroud that tasted of coal smoke and ancient secrets. Arthur sat in his study, the only light provided by a single, guttering candle that cast long, dancing shadows across walls lined with crumbling vellum and leather-bound madness. For seven years, Arthur had chased a ghost: The Codex of Silence. It was...
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