The Distant Threshold

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2026-08-18 19:32:16 -

The bell tower cracked. Not with a sound at first, but with a silence so total it felt like a weight pressing against the eardrums. Margaret stood in the square, her boots sinking into the frost-hardened mud. Above her, the stone face of the church peeled away. A slab the size of a wagon fell. It did not crash. It dissolved. Dust. Grey, fine dust. It settled on her hair. On her hands. It tasted...

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