The Wistful Skyline
The grey mist does not announce itself with thunder or light, but with a dull, metallic taste in the back of your throat, a nausea that settles in the gut like a swallowed stone. You are Elias Thorne, forty-two, a senior actuary at the Meridian Insurance Bureau, and you are currently staring at the third floor of the building across the street, where a faint, swirling haze clings to the window...
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