The Pale Altar

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2026-08-18 13:26:20 -

The Pale Altar

The rain in Ashworth Station did not fall so much as it seeped, a persistent, gray mist that clung to the brickwork and soaked into the wool uniforms of the men who patrolled the perimeter, turning the air into a heavy, damp blanket that suffocated thought. Thomas Bradshaw stood by the window of his office, a small, windowless room that smelled of stale tobacco and wet stone, watching the fog...

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