The Pale Fracture

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2026-08-22 14:11:36 -

The Pale Fracture

The banquet hall of the Ironspire Penitentiary was a cavern of polished obsidian and cold steel, where the air tasted of ozone and stale sweat, and the low, subsonic thrum of the building’s foundation vibrated in the marrow of my bones, a phantom frequency that only I could hear, cracking the mortar of the walls like dry skin beneath a winter sun. I sat at the head of the long table, my uniform...

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