The Faded Ruin
The rain in the industrial district does not fall so much as it hangs, a grey, suffocating curtain that blurs the jagged teeth of the factory chimneys against a sky the color of bruised iron. You stand at the threshold of the Halloway estate, your fingers white-knuckled around a rusted iron key that feels less like a tool and more like a bone you have dug out of your own flesh. The door is...
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