The Wistful Asylum
The banquet hall is a cathedral of light, a sprawling, impossible expanse of polished obsidian and suspended gold that does not exist in the world you left behind, a place where the air tastes of ozone and old paper and the hum of a thousand unseen engines. You stand at the head of the table, your armor, which is not metal but woven from the silken threads of your own memories, shimmering with...
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