In Serial

Imaginary Numbers

8 108 45
Author: Type:Male

In a place of eternal dusk, where the sky is no longer blue, stygian walls of sable forts keep the night at bay.
A former bastion of knowledge, where weeping angels dance, lifeless in its depths.
A dormant stronghold, where forlorn ravens sing, dim-lit by the midnight hues, yet no stars stood.
An endless night, locked in twilight, and bound by the unseen moon.
A place where the fallen king resides... where he sleeps.
This is the story that he made.
Isn't that right... Nonary?

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