The Distant Summer
The rain against the reinforced glass of the observation deck did not sound like rain; it sounded like static, a low-frequency hum that vibrated in the teeth and settled deep in the marrow of the bones. Elias Thorne stood with his back to the city, his reflection a ghostly smudge in the darkened pane, watching the skyline of New Veridia dissolve into the gray mist. He was a man constructed of...
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