The Distant Blade

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2026-08-18 05:37:25 -

The Distant Blade

The rain struck the slate roof of the office with a rhythm that felt less like weather and more like the ticking of a clock that had long since lost its hands. You sat at the desk, the wood polished smooth by decades of friction, and watched the water drip from the eaves in a steady, mournful line. Outside, the city of Ashworth was a smear of grey and coal smoke, the industrial age pressing its...

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