The Distant Wound

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2026-08-20 01:03:28 -

The Distant Wound

I woke with the taste of copper and old paper on my tongue, the smell so thick it felt like a physical weight pressing against the back of my eyes. This was the scent of the Archive, the place where the city kept its memories and, more importantly, its mistakes. I am a Senior Archivist, a title that sounds prestigious to the uninitiated, but which actually marks me as a prisoner of the past. We...

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