The Green Marsh Protocol
The rain in New Orleans Undercity did not fall so much as it hung, a permanent suspension of acidic droplets that clung to every surface like a second atmosphere. It made everything wet, everything corroded, everything slightly toxic. People who had grown up below the towers — which was to say, most people — had skin that looked like it had been dipped in oil and left in the sun. Jax Remy had...
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