The Distant Whispers
The champagne was cold, but the air in the Great Hall of the City Hall was thick with the heat of forty bodies and the electric hum of the Grand Meridian. I stood before the assembly, my hands trembling not from age, but from the sheer, terrifying precision of the machine behind me. It was a beast of brass and steel, its escapement ticking with a rhythm that seemed to match the pulse of the...
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