The Pale Tower

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2026-08-20 17:53:22 -

The Pale Tower

The fog did not roll in. It erupted. It hit the ironworks at dawn, a wall of white so thick it swallowed the sky, the smokestacks, and the men working the foundry. One moment, Arthur Penhaligon was wiping sweat from his brow, his hands blackened by the soot of a hundred shifts. The next, the air turned to water. He could not breathe. He could not see the face of the man standing three feet...

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