The Distant Temple

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2026-08-18 15:52:09 -

The banquet hall smelled of roasted duck and ozone. Marcus sat at the head of the long oak table. He was a man of few words. His uniform was pristine. The brass buttons caught the candlelight. He did not look up. He ate with mechanical precision. The other officers ate. They talked. They laughed. The sound was a low hum. It vibrated in Marcus’s teeth. He was a Senior Combat Integrity Officer....

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