The Pale Garden

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2026-08-21 18:40:34 -

The Pale Garden

The dream was always the same, a recurring loop of white stone and rust. Marcus stood in the center of the Hall of Records, a vast, circular chamber at the heart of the Department of National Security’s underground archive. The air smelled of ozone and old paper, a dry, sterile scent that clung to the back of his throat. He was holding the Ledger. It was a heavy, black-bound book, its cover...

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