The Celestial Map of Dust
The air in Oakhaven didn't move; it stagnated. It was a town of grey porches and rusted swing sets, smelling of damp earth and the slow, inevitable rot of a forgotten dream. In the heart of this decay sat the ruins of the Blackwood Estate, a skeletal mansion where the wallpaper peeled like dead skin and the floorboards groaned under the weight of a century of silence. Inside the attic, Julian...
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