The Wistful Cipher
The iron bar is cold against your ribs. You press your weight into it, muscles coiling like springs in the damp dark of the cell, and the metal holds. It has held for three days. You are not tired, though your bones ache with a hollow, rhythmic pain that feels less like fatigue and more like vibration. The air smells of wet limestone and rust, a heavy scent that coats the back of your throat....
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