The Distant Metropolis
The glass in the window of the office on the fourth floor of the Harrow & Sons Insurance Building shattered at the moment the letter was read, a sudden, violent eruption of light and sound that seemed to tear the fabric of the afternoon in two. Elias Thorne sat at his heavy oak desk, the fragments of the pane raining down around him like diamond dust, the sharp edges biting into the skin of his...
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