The Pale Exile

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2026-08-19 04:03:19 -

The Pale Exile

The waking was not a gradual ascent but a sudden, violent tearing, as if the membrane of sleep had been ripped from the back of my skull, leaving me suspended in a grey, viscous air that tasted of copper and old rain, where I stood not in my bedroom but in a vast, cathedral-like hall that did not exist in the physical world, a place where the laws of architecture were merely suggestions rather...

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