The Distant Metropolis
The carriage wheels groaned against the iron rails, a sound that seemed to resonate not in the air but in the marrow of Elias Thorne’s bones, vibrating with the rhythmic, indifferent pulse of the city he had traveled three hundred miles to investigate. He sat in the corner of the second-class car, his posture rigid, his eyes fixed upon the object resting on his lap: a pocket watch, its casing...
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