The Distant Legend
The ink was dry. Elias stared at the document. The seal was red. It looked like a wound. He signed. The pen felt heavy. It weighed his hand. The air was cold. Steel and coal dust. The factory floor hummed. A low, constant thrum. It lived in his bones. Elias was a translator. Or he had been. Now he was a witness. The men around him stood still. They wore dark coats. Dust settled on their...
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