The Distant Metropolis
The rain had not stopped for three days, and in the damp, claustrophobic air of the Department of Internal Order, it felt less like weather and more like a physical weight pressing against the windows, sealing us in with our own reflections, a heavy, gray blanket that smothered the sounds of the city outside until all that remained was the tick of the clock and the low, humming vibration of the...
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