The Distant Whispers

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2026-08-17 19:22:42 -

The banquet hall of the Ironworks smelled of roasted pheasant and machine oil. You sat at the head table. The candles burned low. The air was thick with smoke and secrets. They toasted you. They called you the Keeper. They called you the Wise One. You drank the wine. It tasted of ash. You looked at your hands. They trembled. Not from fear. From hunger. You were not hungry for food. You were...

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