The Distant Crown
The sky above the city of Oakhaven did not merely darken; it collapsed, a bruised purple bruise that swallowed the sun and spilled a rain that tasted of iron and old dust, and you stood in the center of the central plaza, the wet cobblestones slick beneath your boots, watching the great clock tower in the distance shudder and groan as if the very bones of the world were being pulled apart by...
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