The Faded Masquerade
The fog came in thick. It tasted of iron. We walked. The road was wet. My boots sank. Mud sucked at my heels. I looked up. The sky was gone. Only the grey. And the sound. A low hum. Like a hive. I am a man who seeks truth. Or I was. Now I seek the end. My name is Elias Thorne. I am a detective. Or so I said. I carry a ledger. It is heavy. The pages are stained. With blood? No. With ink. And...
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