The Faded Apartment
The dream began not with light, but with the heavy, suffocating silence of a vault that had not been opened in a century, a place where the air itself seemed to possess weight and viscosity, pressing against the lungs of Elias Thorne as he stood motionless before a door that was less a barrier and more a wound in the fabric of the world. He was not in his office, though the sensation of the...
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