The Distant Metropolis

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2026-08-23 19:53:46 -

The brass trigger guard was cold against your thumb, a small, sharp bite of metal that did not match the dull, persistent heat radiating from the palm beneath it. You held the M4 steady, or tried to, but the barrel traced a slow, drunken arc across the dry brush, a pendulum swinging out of time with the breath you were forcing into your lungs. The border stretched out before you, a jagged scar...

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