The Distant Metropolis
You are walking on the surface of the city, but you are not walking on the ground. The pavement is a thin membrane of grey stone stretched over an abyss of white fog, and beneath your boots, the solid world has dissolved into a mist that smells of ozone and old iron. You are a soldier, though you have no uniform to prove it, only the weight of the rifle slung across your back and the rigid...
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