The Distant Metropolis

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2026-08-22 19:15:39 -

The morning light in the fortress of Ashworth was a heavy thing, falling in slabs of grey across the stone floor, and I counted the hours it took for the dampness to settle into my bones, a slow accumulation of weight that no amount of firewood could banish. It was the twelfth of October, 1893, and I had been Captain Elias Thorne for twenty years, a tenure that had hardened my spine as much as...

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