The Distant Wound

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2026-08-20 01:43:13 -

The Distant Wound

The iron gates of the Foundry District did not rust so much as they calcified, turning into a rigid, unyielding membrane that separated the soot-stained streets from the sterile, white-washed administrative blocks of the upper city, and Thomas Bradshaw stood before them in the early grey hours of the morning, his breath pluming in the cold air, his hands resting on the cold, unyielding metal...

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