The Distant Nightmare
The city of Kyoto woke to the hum of industry, a low thrum that vibrated through the floorboards of the machiya rows and settled in the teeth of the residents. Factories that had once produced textiles now churned out heritage goods, their smokestacks painting the haze a color that was neither grey nor brown, but the dull rust of old iron. In the shadow of the Nishijin district, where the air...
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