The Distant Blade
The lamp in the office flickered, casting long, shivering shadows against the walls of the Ironworks administrative block. Elias Thorne adjusted his spectacles, the glass thick and clouded with the age of the man who wore them, and stared at the schematic of the new hydraulic press. His hands, usually steady as the iron they shaped, trembled on the desk, a subtle vibration that he had learned...
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