The Iron Descent of London
The fog of 1892 was not merely weather; it was a shroud. London breathed soot and exhaled misery, a city of polished top hats and rotting sewers. But beneath the cobblestones of the West End, in the forgotten veins of the city, something was waking up. Beatrice had discovered the signal in the Restricted Section of the British Museum. It wasn't a radio wave, but a series of rhythmic vibrations...
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