The Pale Mist

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2026-08-20 12:21:35 -

The Pale Mist

The building was not a palace, but it had the cold, echoing grandeur of one. The marble floors of the Hall of Justice in London stretched out like frozen lakes, reflecting the grey light that filtered through the high, barred windows. Elias Thorne stood at the center of this vast, sterile space, his hand resting on the hilt of a sword that did not belong to him, or perhaps, to any time at all....

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