The Pale Fracture
The train cut through the grey fog of the industrial sector, a steel serpent hissing against the rusted tracks, carrying Elias Thorne away from the quiet suffocation of his home. He sat with his spine rigid, a posture ingrained not by comfort but by decades of service in the Bureau of Nutritional Compliance. Outside the window, the city of Oakhaven sprawled in layers of soot and brick, a...
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