The Pale Meridian

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2026-08-19 02:29:55 -

The Pale Meridian

The smell of roasted coffee beans hung in the air of the Grand Chancellery, a thick, oily fog that clung to the velvet curtains and settled into the pores of the marble floor. It was a scent of industry, of the new world grinding itself into shape, yet it felt alien here, in this room where the walls were lined with the leather-bound spines of centuries of law. Dr. Arthur Penhaligon stood...

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