The Distant Metropolis

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2026-08-18 02:23:20 -

The rain did not fall so much as it drifted down, a grey, persistent mist that clung to the thatch of the roofs and the cobblestones of the market square, turning the air into a thick, wet wool that tasted of iron and old mud. In the village of Oakhaven, where the mist was not merely weather but a living thing that breathed through the keyholes and whispered in the eaves, a boy named Thomas...

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