The Faded Masquerade
The storm did not break the windows; it broke the silence, a sudden, violent tearing of the air that felt less like weather and more like the body of the world convulsing in pain. You are standing in the center of the Grand Hall, a space that has swallowed generations of whispers and secrets, the high vaulted ceiling lost in the gloom of the chandeliers, which hang like suspended judgments,...
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