The Distant Threshold
The rain did not fall so much as it materialized, a fine, static-charged mist that clung to the glass walls of the Obsidian Tower, blurring the sprawling, neon-drenched cityscape of New Arcadia into a smear of electric blue and sickly yellow, while inside, in the sub-basement archives where the air tasted of ozone and old paper, young Elias Thorne sat with his back pressed against the cold...
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