The Wistful Asylum
"The pressure is climbing, Sergeant. You have to vent it." Joana Vasconcelos did not turn to look at Tomás. She kept her eyes on the gauge, the needle trembling in the red zone, the sound of the station a low, grinding hum that vibrated in her teeth. The steam engine, a massive iron beast installed just three days prior, shuddered in its housing, the pistons churning with a rhythm that felt...
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