The Pale Tower
The train shuddered into the station, a metallic groan that seemed to rise from the very earth, and Elias Thorne stepped onto the platform with the careful, measured gait of a man who had long since stopped believing in the comfort of his own body. He was a clerk, a minor functionary in the vast, indifferent machinery of the Ministry of Record, a place where paper was king and silence was the...
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