The Distant Whispers

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2026-08-19 03:02:08 -

The hall was made of glass. It was not real glass. It was light. It was air that had learned to hold its shape. We called it the Atrium. It stood in the center of the town square, though the town was gone. The houses were shadows. The streets were dust. Only the Atrium remained. I was twelve. My name is Elias. I stood at the base of the structure. The walls hummed. A low, vibrating sound. It...

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