The Distant Metropolis
The cell was not dark, not truly, but it was a darkness that had weight, a thick, gelatinous substance that pressed against my eyes and sealed the world away, leaving me with nothing but the rhythm of my own failing heart and the cold, unyielding stone that served as both my bed and my prison. I lay there, listening to the drip of water from a crack in the ceiling, each drop a tiny, metallic...
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