The Faded Portrait

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2026-08-20 08:19:05 -

The air in the Hall of Mirrors did not smell of dust. It smelled of ozone and crushed violets. Captain Elias Thorne stood at the edge of the vast, circular room. The floor was polished obsidian, black as a moonless night. It reflected his uniform, the silver buttons gleaming like cold stars. But the reflection was wrong. In the glass below, he was not a man in a blue tunic. He was a stag. A...

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