The Pale Shadows
The fire began in the boiler room, a low, hungry whisper that quickly swallowed the silence of the old foundry. Captain Elias Thorne stood on the mezzanine, his uniform pressed and immaculate, a stark white rectangle of authority against the soot-stained brick. Below him, the ironworkers scrambled, their faces illuminated by the sudden, violent orange glow that bled through the high, narrow...
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