The Distant Crown
The rain did not fall so much as it hovered, a suspended gray mist that clung to the windows of the Ministry of Civic Integrity like a shroud of wet wool. Elias Thorne sat at his desk, a narrow sliver of oak in a room that smelled of stale coffee and ozone, and watched the condensation bead and slide down the glass. He was a man composed of right angles and quietude, a senior auditor whose life...
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