The Distant Affair
The air in the sub-basement of the Blackwood Foundry tasted of copper and stale sweat. It was a thick, suffocating heat, the kind that pressed against the skin like a wet wool blanket. Sergeant Elias Thorne stood by the ventilation shaft, his hands clasped behind his back, watching the sparks fly from the welding torch in the corner. He did not blink. His eyes were fixed on the rhythm of the...
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