The Pale Exile
The train cut through the grey morning like a silver needle stitching the sky to the earth, carrying Silas Vane away from the port of Bristol and into the heart of an empire that was slowly unraveling at the seams. He sat in the second-class carriage, his back pressed against the cold metal frame, watching the industrial sprawl of the city shrink into a haze of smoke and brick. In his lap,...
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