The Pale Fracture
You wake not with a jolt, but with a slow, viscous settling of dust in your lungs, a sensation as if the air itself has become a solid medium, thick with the particulate matter of a world that no longer exists outside the walls of this place. The room is a cell, or perhaps a chapel, the distinction blurred by the sheer weight of the silence that presses against your eardrums. You are in the...
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