The Pale Fracture
You have always known that the city is a stomach, and you are merely the digestion. It is a fact so fundamental to your existence in this place, this grey and endless sprawl of iron and wet stone, that you do not think it so much as feel it in the marrow of your bones, a constant, low-frequency hum that vibrates through the soles of your boots. The year is not named here, for time in the...
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