The Faded Apartment
The dream did not wake me so much as it peeled back the skin of my sleep, revealing a chamber that smelled of damp stone, old iron, and the metallic tang of blood that had dried centuries ago on the floorboards. I was standing in the Court of Whispers, a vast, circular hall where the ceiling vanished into a darkness so profound it felt less like an absence of light and more like a physical...
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