The Distant Metropolis
The silver thread of the epaulette caught the low, amber light of the chandelier, a single, unbroken filament of metallic dust that seemed to vibrate with a frequency only I could hear, a hum that had grown louder over the decades until it drowned out the wind and the rain and the distant, hollow tolling of the city bells. I stood in the center of the Great Hall, the stone floor cold and damp...
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