The Pale Altar
You wake in a cold sweat, the sheets tangled around your legs like the roots of a strangled tree, and the first thing you know is that the glass is broken. Not just cracked, not just a hairline fracture that might be glued back together with time and care, but shattered, a spiderweb of white veins radiating from the center of the pane that separates your sanctuary from the world outside. You...
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