The Distant Metropolis
The fog that settled over the village of Hallow’s End did not merely obscure the world; it swallowed it whole, turning the sharp edges of the thatched roofs and the iron gates of the manor into soft, indistinct suggestions of things that had perhaps never existed at all, and in the center of this grey, breathing void, Elara sat on the cold stone steps of her cottage, her fingers tracing the...
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