The Wistful Cipher
The frost had not yet broken on the pane. It clung in fern-like fractals, a crystalline web that trapped the cold against the glass. Elias stood before it, his breath misting in the stagnant air of the study. He was a man who measured the world in intervals, in frequencies, in the precise decay of a signal over time. But here, in the heart of the old manor, the signal was breaking. The house...
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