The Faded Paradox
The rain had not stopped for three days. It drummed against the slate roof of the manor with a rhythmic, hollow persistence that you felt in your teeth, a dull ache mirroring the gnawing emptiness in your belly. You were a soldier, or so the papers said, though the uniform was ill-fitting and the boots had lost their shine long before you arrived at this damp, crumbling estate on the edge of...
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