The Pale Tower
The incinerator at the St. Jude’s Community Center hissed and spat, a long, metallic groan that vibrated through the concrete floor and up into the soles of Elias’s shoes, a sound that was less a noise and more a physical pressure against the eardrums, a constant, low-frequency hum that seemed to originate from the earth itself rather than the machinery. Elias stood before the control panel,...
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