The Faded River
The iron breath of the boiler hissed against the walls of the signal tower, a constant, metallic wheeze that seemed to echo the labored panting of Elias Thorne. He stood at the center of the circular room, the soot from the furnace clinging to his uniform like a second skin, his hands trembling not from the cold that seeped through the riveted steel, but from the weight of the word he had been...
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