The Wistful Asylum
The glass shattered. It was not a quiet sound. It was a shriek, a high-pitched wail that tore through the sterile air of the infirmary. The pane, thick and clouded by decades of industrial smog, burst outward in a thousand glittering shards. They hung in the stillness for a moment, suspended like diamond dust in a beam of sun, before raining down onto the wet cobblestones below. Elias stood in...
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