The Distant Metropolis
You stand at the edge of the precipice, not of rock, but of air. The city sprawls below you, a labyrinth of glass and steel that breathes in slow, mechanical sighs. It is a metropolis of shadows, where the light does not fall so much as it is extracted, pulled upward by the magnetic greed of the spires. You are here because you were told to be here. You are here because Thomas is waiting. Your...
0 Kommentare 0 Geteilt 1 Ansichten 0 Bewertungen