The Pale Meridian

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2026-08-19 16:35:43 -

The Pale Meridian

The clock in the antechamber ticks with the precision of a mechanical heartbeat, a dry, rhythmic clicking that seems to vibrate in your teeth. You are standing in the corridor of the Ashworth Institute, the air thick with the scent of ozone and old varnish. It is 1893, and the world is turning over into itself, gears grinding against gears, steam hissing through pipes that run like veins...

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