The Pale Tower

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2026-08-23 23:58:49 -

The Pale Tower

The dream was not of darkness, but of a brilliant, sterile white, a light so absolute it erased the boundaries of my own skin. I stood in a corridor of glass, the air thin and cold, and when I looked down, I saw that my hands were made of the same pale crystal as the walls, the fingers long and brittle, trembling with a vibration that I felt not in my ears but in the marrow of my bones. I tried...

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