The Wistful Saga
I woke in the hum. Not a sound. A vibration. The air tasted of copper and old dust. I was standing in the corridor. Or floating. It is hard to say. The floor was made of light. Or perhaps it was the ceiling. The geometry was wrong. The angles did not add up. I checked my watch. It ticked backward. Then it stopped. I am a detective. Or I was. In the waking world, I am Elias Thorne. I investigate...
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