The Wistful Ashes

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2026-08-23 09:28:41 -

The Wistful Ashes

The dream was always the same, a grey courtyard where the air tasted of iron and old rain, and I was standing before a desk that had no owner, just the faint, rhythmic hum of a voice that did not belong to the living. I woke in my narrow bunk in the Ministry dormitory, the fluorescent lights buzzing with a headache that felt like a physical weight behind my eyes, and I knew immediately that I...

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