The Pale Verdict
The dream began not with light, but with the weight of the air, thick and cold as water, pressing against the inside of Aldous’s skull. He stood in the center of the Great Hall of the Citadel of Oria, a structure of such immense and terrible symmetry that it seemed less built than grown from the bedrock of the world. The architecture was a feat of impossible engineering, a lattice of black...
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