The Distant Whispers
The city of Ostrava was built on bones. Not human bones, but the fossilized ribs of the earth, twisted into coal seams and iron veins. It was a place where the air tasted of rust and the light never quite managed to pierce the grey veil of industry. Elias Thorne stood on the bridge, watching the Vltava flow beneath him. He did not look at the water. He looked at his hands. They were shaking....
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