The Faded Attic
The fire did not begin with a spark, but with a silence so profound it felt like the air itself had been drawn from the lungs of the city. In the ancient quarter of Loria, where the stone streets were worn smooth by centuries of hurried feet and the architecture leaned inward as if whispering secrets to the shadows, the Great Archive of St. Jude was a fortress of memory. It was a place where...
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