The Pale Tale
The fog that settled over the industrial district of Blackwood did not merely obscure the world; it consumed it, a thick, gray wool drawn over the face of the city until the sharp edges of the ironworks and the soot-blackened tenements blurred into a single, indistinct smear of misery. It was a substance that tasted of copper and wet ash, and it clung to the lungs of those who walked the...
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