The Distant Metropolis
The rain did not fall so much as it insisted, a cold, grey static that erased the horizon where the heath met the sky. Elias Thorne moved through the mud with the heavy, rhythmic gait of a man who had forgotten how to be light. He was a scholar of antiquities, a man who had spent forty years deciphering the silent languages of dead civilizations, yet he could not read the landscape before him,...
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