The Distant Metropolis

added blog Literature

2026-08-22 09:31:51 -

You wake in the antechamber of the Obsidian Palace, the stone beneath your back cold and unyielding, and for a moment you do not know where the dream ends and the waking begins, only that the air tastes of iron and old blood. You are a sentinel, or perhaps you were, though the uniform you wear is tattered, the fabric worn thin to the texture of skin, and your hands, which you lift to examine,...

0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews