The Distant Nightmare
The train cut through the grey morning like a scalpel through wet meat, leaving a trail of steam that coiled and dissipated against the cold glass. Elias Thorne sat in the corner of the first-class carriage, his knees pressed together, his hands resting on the polished leather satchel that had not left his side for three days. He was a man who dealt in rare earths and rare metals, a trader...
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