The Wistful Witness
The alarm that woke me was not a sound but a vibration, a high-frequency tremor that traveled up through the soles of my boots and into the marrow of my shin bones, a sensation that felt less like a notification and more like the earth itself was rejecting the weight of the building, and I sat up in the dark of the temporary quarters, the air thick with the smell of ozone and burnt copper, my...
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