The Banquet of Rust

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2026-06-05 23:25:25 -

The manor of Blackwood sat like a rotting tooth in the middle of the Louisiana bayou, surrounded by a sea of iridescent, chemical-slicked water. Inside, the air was thick with the scent of jasmine and decaying meat. Silas, the last scion of the Blackwood line, wore a silk dressing gown that had turned a sickly yellow with age. He sat at the head of a mahogany table that stretched forty feet,...

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