The Distant Temple

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2026-08-19 09:50:57 -

The mill stood on the hill like a broken tooth against the grey sky of Oakhaven. It was a place of iron and steam, of clattering gears that never slept, and it belonged to Mr. Silas Thorne. To the town, Thorne was not a man but a weather system, a pressure drop that made the air taste of copper and fear. He had built his empire on the backs of men who coughed black phlegm into handkerchiefs and...

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