The Faded Photograph

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2026-08-19 14:02:06 -

The hall was a tomb of gaslight and dust, the air thick with the smell of stale tobacco and wet wool. You stood in the corner, your uniform crisp, your spine rigid, while the laughter of the officers swelled around you like a tide that refused to recede. It was a celebration, or so they called it, a victory banquet for the suppression of the unrest in the industrial district. The brass on the...

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