The Distant Clue

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2026-08-20 12:13:23 -

The Distant Clue

The steam from the ironworks did not merely rise, it hung, a heavy, sulfurous shroud that settled into the pores of my skin and the crevices of my bones, making me feel as though I were slowly being digested by the very air I breathed, a suffocating embrace that tasted of copper and old rust. I was twelve years old, a small, trembling thing in the vast, grinding machinery of the Foundry, my...

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