The Faded Ruin

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2026-08-19 19:57:06 -

The Faded Ruin

The banquet hall of the Bureau for Anomalous Compliance smelled of burnt sugar and ozone. It was a smell that stuck to the back of the throat, a cloying sweetness that masked the metallic tang of the air filtration systems running at maximum capacity. Margaret Holloway sat at the head of the long mahogany table, her posture rigid, her hands resting flat on the polished surface. Before her lay...

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