The Pale Tale

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2026-08-20 21:24:35 -

The Pale Tale

The dream was not a dream in the way that sleep usually constructs them, floating and disconnected, but rather a thick, viscous repetition of the present moment, a physical weight that pressed against the inside of my skull with the unyielding persistence of a stone lodged in the throat of a dying man. I stood in the center of the Grand Hall of the Citadel, a place I had not entered in twenty...

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