The Faded Apartment

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2026-08-19 15:32:12 -

The rain against the windowpane of the small, damp office in Millhaven does not sound like rain; it sounds like the slow, rhythmic grinding of gears in a machine that has long since rusted shut. You sit in the chair that holds your spine, a posture of rigid, industrial discipline, and you look at the badge. It is a heavy thing, a shield of polished brass and cold steel, etched with the crest of...

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