The Distant Temple

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2026-08-19 09:57:57 -

The extraction failed. Silas checked the monitor. The waveform was flat. A straight line. He looked at the patient. Then at the vial. Then at his hands. The room smelled of ozone and old copper. Silas was a broker of rare compounds. Not drugs. Not exactly. They were catalysts. Accelerants. Things that made the impossible possible for a price. He dealt in stability. In order. In the quiet hum of...

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