The Distant Whispers
The rain did not fall so much as it hovered, a suspended mist that clung to the wet wool of Julian’s coat and seeped into the marrow of his bones, a cold that was less a temperature than a frequency, a low hum that vibrated through the very structure of the city. He walked with the deliberate, heavy pace of a man who knows that the ground beneath him is not solid but merely a suggestion, a thin...
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