The Faded Photograph
The iron gate of the Citadel does not open for you, not in the way that wood or stone yields to force, but you possess the specific, technical key that unlocks the mechanism of the soul, and so you step across the threshold into the Hall of Echoes, where the air tastes of ozone and old blood, and the light is a pale, sickly blue that seems to come from nowhere and everywhere at once, a...
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