Sample-V01-The Last Petal of London-202606071830.txt
(Act I: The Ascent) The fog did not arrive with a scream, but with a whisper. It was a pale, iridescent gauze that first clung to the banks of the Thames, then swallowed the cobblestones of Whitechapel, and finally, by the autumn of 1892, began to erase the spires of Westminster. I, Arthur Penhaligon, stood upon the balcony of the Royal Observatory, watching the world dissolve. The Great Void,...
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