The Obsession of Symmetry
The city of Aethelgard was a masterpiece of sterile perfection. There were no curves in Aethelgard, no accidents, no randomness. Every building was a perfect cube, every street a precise right angle, and every citizen a mirror image of their neighbor. At the center of this clockwork society was the High Architect, Valentine. He was a man of porcelain skin and obsidian eyes, possessed by a...
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