The Wistful Throne
I The port of Kuroshio moved with the heavy, rhythmic labor of a war economy, the cranes swinging steel against the harvest sky while the tide clock on the harbor wall ticked with a mechanical indifference that no one bothered to reset. In the shadow of the vine slopes, where the valley floor lay drowned in fog and industry, the streetcars ran on a schedule that was less a promise than a...
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