The Wistful Petal

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2026-08-22 14:06:01 -

The Wistful Petal

The fog did not rise so much as it remembered, a thick, gelid curtain that swallowed the geometry of the city until only the smell of ozone and wet wool remained. I stood at the edge of the precipice, my uniform pressed into a shape that no longer fit the man inside it, the brass buttons catching the light of a moon that felt more like a hole in the sky than a celestial body. My name is Elias...

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