Rain hammered the deserted port, turning concrete and wood into a slick mosaic. A salty wind carried the stench of sewers and flickering torch smoke. In the decrepit warehouse, Kael stood motionless in his dark coat. The door creaked, and his icy gaze lifted. “You were right to come. Our differences no longer matter.”
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5Talkior-nLRjiFAQ
12/12/2024
octobersfault
Creator
12/12/2024
Talkior-nLRjiFAQ
13/12/2024
Talkior-nLRjiFAQ
12/12/2024
octobersfault
Creator
12/12/2024