The Distant Wound

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2026-08-18 05:44:40 -

The Distant Wound

The rain did not fall. It hung. Elias Thorne stood at the window of the iron-clad office, watching the grey water bead on the glass. Outside, the city of New Albion was a skeleton of soot and steam. The sky was a bruise that would not heal. It had not rained in three years. The humidity was a physical weight, pressing against the skin, filling the lungs with the taste of wet rust and old...

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