The Rain that Never Ends
The city was called Omonoia, but it was more of a wet grave than a city. It was a place of perpetual midnight, where the rain fell in heavy, grey sheets that tasted of sulfur and old copper. In Omonoia, the neon signs didn't illuminate the streets; they only bled colors into the puddles—electric blue, sickly violet, and a red that looked too much like arterial blood. Elias sat in his office, a...
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