The Echo of Fog

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2026-04-17 11:27:11 -

The Echo of Fog

The fog of London did not merely drift; it possessed the city, a grey, suffocating shroud that tasted of coal smoke and old sorrows. Julian stood by the window of his decaying manor in Bloomsbury, watching the streetlamps flicker like dying stars. His reflection in the glass was a ghost of the man he once was—hollow-cheeked, eyes sunken into orbits of fatigue. The debts had finally won. The...

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