The Distant Crown
The rain did not fall so much as it was suspended, a gray, static curtain that pressed against the floor-to-ceiling windows of the Glasshouse, a structure that had once been a cathedral of commerce and now stood as a monument to the specific, aching weight of modernity. Inside, the air was thick with the scent of ozone and wet stone, a sensory blend that seemed to vibrate at a frequency only...
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