The Distant Wound

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2026-08-19 09:08:47 -

The Distant Wound

The air in the Undercroft tasted of rust and wet ash, a metallic tang that coated the back of my throat and seemed to calcify in my lungs. I sat alone in the gloom, my hands wrapped around the hilt of a rusted iron key, the metal cold and slick with condensation. Above me, the ceiling was a labyrinth of blackened pipes and churning gears, a mechanical skeleton that groaned and shuddered with...

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