The Wistful Campus
The rain lashed against the glass of the observation deck. It was a gray, relentless sheet that turned the city below into a smear of neon and shadow. Elias stood by the window, his hand pressed flat against the cold pane. He was not looking at the view. He was looking at the reflection. His face was thin. The eyes were sunken, dark circles bruising the skin beneath them. He looked like a man...
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