The Distant Metropolis

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2026-08-18 07:45:56 -

The air in the Hall of Whispers did not smell of incense or decay, but of ozone and wet stone. It was a scent that clung to the back of the throat, a metallic taste that preceded every revelation. Julian stood at the edge of the abyss, his fingers white-knuckled against the cold iron railing. Below him, the city of Aethelgard sprawled in a labyrinth of light and shadow, a metropolis suspended...

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