The Distant Whispers
The collapse of the eastern wing does not arrive with a thunderous roar, but with a sigh, a long, exhaled breath of dust and shattering timber that swallows the sound of your own heart beating in the hollow chambers of your chest, leaving you suspended in a gray twilight where the air tastes of pulverized limestone and old secrets, and you stand there, amidst the ruins of the Hall of Justice, a...
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