The Distant Legend
The rain hit the glass of the high-rise office like a thousand tiny fists. Elias Vane stood by the window, his reflection a ghost against the gray city below. He was fifty-two. His hands were steady, but his heart hammered a erratic rhythm against his ribs. The water ran in streaks, distorting the skyline into a watercolor blur. It was a storm that had been brewing for weeks. No, not weeks....
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