The Wistful Petal

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2026-08-21 14:33:00 -

The Wistful Petal

The gate was rusted. It groaned under Thomas’s weight. A long, metallic scream that cut through the fog. He checked his watch. 0400. The hands were stuck. He snapped it shut. Useless. He looked at the building. The Foundry. It stood in the center of the town, a black monolith against the pale sky. Smoke poured from its chimney in thick, oily ribbons. It did not move. It did not change. It...

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