The Faded Paradox
The rain did not fall so much as it hung in the air of the Milltown district, a fine, persistent mist that clung to the soot-blackened brick and the copper-painted spires of the Great Hall, blurring the boundaries between the solid world and the spectral one that seemed to bleed through the fog. Silas Vane stood at the base of the scaffolding, his umbrella discarded in the mud, watching the...
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