The Golden Scar
The rain in the city of Oakhaven did not fall so much as it seeped, a persistent, grey mist that clung to the cobblestones and the iron grates of the streets, carrying with it the scent of wet stone and the metallic tang of the new, sterile air that the Ministry of Order had pumped into the lower districts. It was a morning of departure, though no one seemed to understand that the leaving was...
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