The Pale Bridge
The iron bridge did not shatter; it simply ceased to be solid. Elara stood on the deck of the *HMS Sovereign*, the wind whipping her skirts against her knees, watching the great span of metal that connected the two sides of the harbor. It was a marvel of the industrial age, a testament to human ambition and the cold, hard logic of the state. But in the grey, pre-dawn light, it looked less like...
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