The Pale Exile
The frost had a particular way of settling on the glass of the observatory dome, a crystalline lattice that seemed to pulse with a cold, blue light. I wiped the condensation from the eyepiece, my breath forming small ghosts in the air before vanishing. Outside, the city of Leeds was a sprawl of iron and steam, a beast that breathed smoke into the night sky. The industrial age had not just built...
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