The Distant Machine
14th of the Month of Long Shadows, Border Camp 9. My hands are bound in iron, Elias Thorne, and the cold of this place has seeped into the marrow of my bones, but I am writing this because I must tell you that the Great Engine is alive, or as close to alive as a thing of brass and oil can be. The Bureau’s men have sealed my workshop, classifying the construct as a biological hazard, a term that...
0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews