The Faded Portrait

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2026-08-17 17:56:10 -

The banquet hall hummed. A low, electric thrum. Dust motes danced in the shafts of artificial light. They were gold. They were ash. Silas stood at the edge. He watched. His hands were steady. Too steady. He held a glass of water. It was clear. It was empty. The city roared outside. The rain hit the glass. *Tap. Tap. Tap.* A rhythm. A heartbeat. The guests moved like smoke. They wore silk. They...

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