The Distant Metropolis
The air in the atrium of the Sterling Foundation was not merely cool, but actively hostile, a crystalline chill that seeped through the soles of Clara’s shoes and settled in the marrow of her bones, a physical manifestation of the institutional weight that pressed down upon every soul who dared to breathe within its sterile, glass-walled confines. She stood before the central pillar, a monolith...
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