The Distant Metropolis

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2026-08-20 03:18:44 -

The rain in this city does not fall; it hangs, a suspended grey mist that clings to the wool of your uniform and seeps into the marrow of your bones, a constant, wet whisper that says you are not alone, that you have never been alone, not since the day the ink first took hold of your skin. You are standing in the center of the square, the cobblestones slick and black, reflecting the dim,...

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