The Wistful Silence

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2026-08-21 10:03:04 -

The sky above the foundry did not break; it dissolved. One moment, the air was thick with the scent of ozone and hot iron, a hazy blue twilight hanging over the industrial sprawl of Oakhaven. The next, the horizon simply ceased to be a line and became a wound. The ironworks, that cathedral of steam and soot where I had spent the last decade forging the spine of the empire’s rail network, began...

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