The Wistful Skyline
The chandelier in the Grand Hall of the Sterling Institute of Behavioral Architecture did not merely hang; it presided, a crystalline constellation of cut glass and tarnished brass that refracted the grey, pre-dawn light into a million jagged shards of cold fire, illuminating the polished obsidian floor where Elara Vance stood alone, her breath forming a small, white ghost against the biting...
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