The Faded Portrait
The air in the Hall of Echoes was not merely cold; it was a physical weight, pressing against Elara’s shoulders with the silent insistence of a debt long overdue. She stood before the Great Mirror, a slab of polished obsidian set into the marble wall of the Victorian industrialist’s estate, a place that had once been a palace of steam and iron, now a hollow shell of decaying grandeur. The...
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