The Pale Exile
The static hits you before the door does. You are Elias Thorne, thirty-four, a private investigator in Oakhaven, and the air in the Vane foyer tastes of copper and burnt ozone. You have been hired for five hundred dollars, a sum that would clear the ledger at the card tables where you have bled out your savings and your dignity, but right now the money is a distant abstraction behind the...
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