The Distant Metropolis
The blade bit into the flesh of the oak table with a dull, wet crunch, the wood splintering outward in jagged, pale shards that scattered across the stone floor like broken teeth. Sir Aldous stood in the center of the High Court, his left sleeve pinned neatly to his chest, the stump of his wrist wrapped in a linen bandage that had long since darkened with dried blood, and he waited for the...
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