The Pale Path

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2026-08-17 18:12:56 -

The Pale Path

The bell rang. It did not chime; it screamed. A jagged iron sound that tore through the morning air of the city, shattering the thin frost on the pavement. Margaret Holloway stood in the center of the square. She did not run. She did not hide. She waited. The air tasted of copper and old ash. It was the taste of the end. The sky was the color of a bruise. Purple and swollen. It hung low over...

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