The Wistful Cipher

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2026-08-18 00:02:52 -

You wake with a taste of copper in your mouth. It is thick, metallic, and old. The air in the room is still. Dust motes hang suspended in the single beam of light cutting through the boarded window. You are in the station. Or what remains of it. The walls are peeling, curling away from the plaster like dead skin. The floorboards groan under your weight, a sound that feels too loud, too close....

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