The Abyss Rose
## Act I — The Orb The fog that winter was not merely weather—it was a substance, a living membrane that pressed against the windows of the Sinclair townhouse in Belgrave Square like a great pale lung. Inside, the gas lamps burned with a sickly yellow breath, and the porcelain figures on the mantelpiece watched everything with the frozen indifference of the dead. Lord Arthur Sinclair sat in his...
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