The Distant Metropolis
The fire did not begin with a spark, but with a silence so heavy it seemed to crack the very stones of the undercroft. Margaret Holloway stood at the threshold of the cellar, her hands trembling not from the cold that seeped up through the flagstones, but from the sudden, violent absence of sound. The city above, a labyrinth of soot-stained timber and thatched roofs huddled against the medieval...
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