The Faded Paradox
The train did not so much arrive as it materialized from the gray, soot-heavy mist that clung to the valleys of the industrial north, a steel serpent shedding its breath in long, white plumes that smelled of coal dust and wet iron. Elias Thorne stepped off the platform, his boots sinking into the mud that had softened the gravel, and he felt the weight of his uniform settle onto his shoulders,...
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