The Wistful Crossroads

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2026-08-22 03:13:09 -

The fog in Oakhaven does not drift; it eats. It swallows the sound of my boots on the cobblestones and turns the gaslights into blurred, bleeding halos. I am Elias, a night watchman for the City Guard, and I have walked these streets for ten years. My wool coat is heavy, a grey beast that hangs on my shoulders, fraying at the elbows where the fabric has given way to the cold. It is my armor. It...

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