The Pale Exile

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2026-08-19 01:52:14 -

The Pale Exile

The rain did not fall so much as it hovered, a suspended mist that turned the air in the village of Oakhaven into a thick, gray gelatin, clinging to the skin with a damp, persistent weight. I stood at the window of the library annex, watching the water beads race down the glass, blurring the view of the high street where the shop windows glowed with the sterile, blue-white light of emergency...

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