The Faded Dust
The rain had not stopped for three days, turning the cobblestones of the industrial district into a slick, black mirror that reflected the smokestacks of the foundries above. It was a grey, suffocating dawn, the kind that seemed to press down on the shoulders of the city, weighing the souls within it down into the mud. Sergeant Elias Thorne stood at the mouth of the alley, his collar turned up...
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