The Faded Frontier

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2026-08-21 16:08:29 -

The rain did not fall; it hung in the air like a suspended judgment, a dense, grey mist that clung to the cobblestones of the district known as The Sump, where the architecture leaned inward as if in perpetual, exhausted confession. Arthur Pendelton stood at the edge of the precipice, his boots sinking into the wet gravel that smelled of rot and ancient iron, his hand resting on the hilt of a...

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