The Pale Tale
The rain that had been falling on the city of Veridia for three days did not cease but rather changed its nature, shifting from a cold, mechanical drizzle to a thick, viscous mist that clung to the wool of coats and the leather of shoes, a heavy grey shroud that seemed to press down upon the cobblestones and the iron grates of the manholes, obscuring the sharp edges of the modern world and...
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