The Faded Chronicle
The rain in Chicago did not fall so much as it invaded, a cold, gray sheet that turned the pavement of the Loop into a mirror of shattered streetlights. Dr. Elias Thorne ran, his leather satchel banging against his hip, the sound of his own ragged breathing competing with the hiss of tires on wet asphalt. Behind him, the shouting of his colleagues had shifted from academic inquiry to primal...
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