The Distant Metropolis
The morning the bell tower cracked, it did not ring. It simply split, a jagged white fracture running down the slate face of the stone like a vein of dried blood, and the silence that followed was so heavy it pressed against the eardrums of every soul in the city of Oakhaven. It was a silence that tasted of iron and old dust. Thomas stood in the alleyway behind the apothecary, his fingers...
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