The Distant Metropolis
You sit in the corner of the vast, windowless room, the air thick with the scent of ozone and old dust, your fingers tracing the cold, smooth surface of the ledger bound in black leather that you hold against your chest like a shield. The fluorescent lights above hum a low, monotonous drone, a sound that seems to vibrate in the marrow of your bones, a constant reminder of the machinery that...
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