The Pale Exile

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2026-08-20 09:52:21 -

The Pale Exile

The rain had been falling for three days, a steady, grey curtain that turned the streets of Chicago into rivers of sludge and broken light. I sat in my office on the fourteenth floor, watching the wipers of a parked car sweep back and forth, back and forth, a metronome counting out the seconds I no longer had. The city below was blurred, smeared by the glass, but I could still hear the sirens,...

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