The Distant Temple
The rain had not stopped for three days, a relentless, grey curtain that turned the cobblestones of the old district into slick, reflective pools where the neon signs of the police station bled their red and blue light into the wet darkness. You stood in the center of the room, the air thick with the scent of stale coffee, wet wool, and the metallic tang of fear that seemed to cling to the...
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