The Faded Attic

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2026-08-22 10:46:16 -

The Faded Attic

The rain had not stopped for three days, turning the world into a gray, suspended fluid where the horizon had dissolved into mist. I stood at the edge of the cliff, my boots sinking into the mud that smelled of rot and wet stone. My hand rested on the hilt of my saber, a reflex born of twenty years in the uniform, though there was no enemy here. There was only the wind, howling like a dying...

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