The Pale Banner
The silence in the basement was not empty; it was heavy, a physical weight that pressed against your eardrums and settled in the hollows of your bones. You sat on the cold stone floor, your back against the damp wall, holding the small, tarnished brass astrolabe in your lap. It was a relic from a time before the smog, before the gears of the city had ground down to a stop, before the Ministry...
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