The Distant Affair

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2026-08-21 22:28:16 -

The mark was a scar. It lived on my left palm, a pale, jagged line where the skin had once been torn by iron and intent. I did not check it. I did not need to. It was there. It was always there. The city of Ashworth was a machine of soot and steam. The air tasted of coal and copper. We moved through it like ghosts, or perhaps like rats, unseen by the light that cut through the smog. I was a...

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