The Pale Meridian

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2026-08-20 05:48:32 -

The Pale Meridian

The blade was red to the hilt. Marcus stood in the center of the field. It was not a field of grass. It was a plain of white ash, stretching out in every direction under a sky the color of bruised plum. The air tasted of copper and ozone. He held his sword. It was heavy. It was cold. It was the only thing that felt real. In front of him stood the Enemy. It did not have a face. It was a shape of...

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