The Neon Cure
The air in New York during the Roaring Twenties didn't just smell of gin and expensive cigars; it smelled of a frantic, desperate kind of hope. I was Elias, a man of science in an age of miracles, though my miracle was a secret that would have seen me committed to an asylum. I had discovered the Frequency. It wasn't a sound you could hear with your ears, but a vibration you felt in the marrow...
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