The Wistful Skyline
The tower stood not merely as a structure of steel and glass but as a monolith of judgment, its reflection shimmering in the rain-slicked streets of Chicago like a distorted, cold eye staring down at the sinners below. Sergeant Elias Thorne stood at the perimeter of the cordon, his uniform soaked through, the heavy fabric clinging to his ribs as if the city itself were trying to strangle him,...
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