The Wistful Skyline
The rain hammered against the high, narrow windows of the ventilation control room, a rhythmic, industrial drumming that seemed to synchronize with the pounding of Elias Thorne’s heart. He stood before the master console, a vast array of brass levers, glass dials, and copper piping that stretched across the wall like the exposed nervous system of the building itself. His hands, wrapped in thick...
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