V-01: The Silent Echo of London
The fog of 1890s London did not just swallow the streets; it swallowed souls. In a damp cellar beneath a crumbling tenement in East End, Arthur lived in a world of grey. His only color was Pippin, a creature of iridescent scales and amber eyes, hatched from a stone that should have remained dead. For three years, Arthur fed Pippin stolen scraps of meat and read him Keats by the flickering light...
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