The Faded Paradox
The train did not arrive at a station, but rather at a cessation. It slowed with the heavy, reluctant grace of a beast of burden, its iron wheels grinding against tracks that seemed to melt into the gray, fog-drenched air of a landscape that had no name and no history. Elias Thorne stepped onto the platform, a place of stone so ancient it looked less built than grown, like a calcified tumor on...
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