The Distant Metropolis
The stone walls of the keep did not breathe, yet in the deep, stagnant silence of the midwinter night, they seemed to contract around Aldous Vane, pressing the air from his lungs in a slow, rhythmic compression that felt less like architecture and more like the interior of a colossal, indifferent heart. He stood alone in the central chamber, a space that had once been the seat of judgment and...
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