The Pale Path
Hasan Arslan stood at the threshold of the signal tower, the fog rising from the river like a grey tide that swallowed the foundations of the guild hall. He wanted the promotion. He wanted the badge that would let him stop the bleeding of the night shifts, the phantom workers who slipped through the turnstiles and left only cold steam in their wake. The Bureau called them anomalies. Hasan...
0 Kommentare 0 Geteilt 1 Ansichten 0 Bewertungen