The Pale Exile

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2026-08-18 12:42:35 -

The Pale Exile

The gate was not a gate. It was a seam in the air, a vertical tear in the grey wool of the afternoon, humming with a frequency that made Thomas’s teeth ache. He stood before it on the cobblestones of the High Street, his hand resting on the pommel of a sword that felt heavier than iron, heavier than lead, heavier than the guilt that sat in his gut like a cold stone. The city around him was...

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