The Faded Quadrant

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2026-08-21 11:55:51 -

The feast was a cacophony of clinking silver and the wet, rhythmic tearing of roasted pheasant, but for Captain Elias Thorne, it was a suffocating wall of noise. He sat at the head of the long oak table in the Great Hall of the Blackwood Manor, his posture rigid, his hands resting on the polished wood with the precise, unyielding discipline of a man who had spent his life calibrating the...

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