The Wistful Skyline
The first thing you notice is the smell, a pungent, ancient rot that seems to seep up from the cobblestones themselves, mixing with the sharp, metallic tang of the air which tastes of iron and old blood. You are running, your lungs burning with a pain so sharp it feels like glass being ground into your ribcage, and your feet are slapping against the wet, slick pavement of the city that has no...
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