The Distant Metropolis
The iron lungs of the city breathed in the boy’s breath and exhaled only gray ash. Thomas Whitmore stood at the edge of the precipice, his small hands gripping the rusted iron railing until his knuckles turned the color of old bone, watching the vast, industrial metropolis sprawl below him in a labyrinth of smokestacks and screaming gears. It was a place that did not exist on any map, a phantom...
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