The Wistful Skyline
The oak tree at the center of the courtyard was not merely a plant; it was a living architecture of bone and bark, its roots drinking deep from the subterranean veins of the old estate, and Professor Elias Thorne stood beneath its boughs, his hand pressed against the rough, fissured skin of the trunk, feeling the slow, tectonic pulse of sap that seemed to beat in time with the frantic, failing...
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