For now, though, he was far from that, immersed again into his old element – the low-sunk streets, overlaid with a criss-cross of multilevel viaducts and grav-platforms, the chasms and the gulfs, the seamy thoroughfares and the drifting miasmas. A thousand bodies should have been crammed into every scrap of space down there, but now it was just wreckage and ashes. The few bodies he noticed in the murk weren’t moving. Alongside the ever-present stink of engine oil, he could detect an underlying stratum of copper, much more pronounced than it had ever been before. Every vista was clouded with
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