The Faded Quadrant
The rain did not fall so much as it hung in the air, a grey, industrial curtain that smelled of wet iron and coal smoke. Sergeant Elias Thorne stood at the corner of 4th and Main, his hands resting on the heavy oak railing of the fire escape. He was watching the street below, not for crime, but for a specific shade of blue. The city of Oakhaven was a machine of gears and steam, a place where...
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