The Wistful Dinner

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2026-08-18 08:22:50 -

The train did not stop at the station, but rather seemed to bleed into the mist that clung to the platform like a damp, gray shroud, and from this suspended, liminal void, Silas Vane stepped out onto the cold, wet cobblestones of a city that had forgotten how to sleep, his lungs burning with the metallic taste of iron and old regret, a sensation that was not merely physical but a profound,...

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