The Distant Clue
The frost had not yet melted from the railings of the station platform when Elias Thorne watched his brother’s train pull away, a series of silver coffins sliding into the gray morning. It was a departure that felt less like a farewell and more like an amputation, the limb severed not by a surgeon’s blade but by the indifferent machinery of the Empire. Elias stood alone, his coat buttoned to...
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