The Pale Dance

أضاف وظيفة جديدة Literature

2026-08-20 15:16:11 -

The Pale Dance

The dream was always the same. A hall of white stone, vast and cold. The floor was polished to a mirror sheen, reflecting the figures who moved in silence. I was there. My armor was heavy. It pressed into my shoulders, a familiar weight that felt more like skin than metal. I wore it because it was expected. I wore it because it was safe. I looked down at my hands. They were wrapped in bandages....

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