The Chemist of Grayhaven
The story begins. The explosion came at three in the morning. Arthur Pendelton remembered the sound as a physical thing—a wall of heat pressing against his chest, the laboratory windows dissolving into shrapnel, the smell of硝ric compound burning through his lungs like swallowed lightning. When he opened his eyes, he was lying on the floor of the Royal Society's West Wing laboratory, and a...
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