The Distant Metropolis
The rain had not merely fallen; it had besieged the valley for three days, turning the red clay roads into a viscous, sucking slurry that threatened to swallow the tires of the battered SUV before it could even reach the first bend, and it was in this relentless, gray deluge that Major Elias Thorne sat with his hands wrapped around a mug of cold, black coffee, watching the mist obscure the line...
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