The Wistful Saga
The brass key hangs heavy in your palm, its teeth worn smooth by decades of anxious hands, and the cold metal bites into your palm as you turn it, the sound of the lock giving way a dry, skeletal click that echoes in the suffocating silence of the archive room. You are Elias Thorne, thirty-four years old, and you have spent the last twelve hours fighting a war that has already been lost,...
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