The Distant Journey
The heavy oak door of the workshop closed with a finality that felt less like a latch and more like a coffin lid settling into place, sealing me in with the scent of sawdust, aged varnish, and the peculiar, metallic tang of the air that had begun to bleed into our world. I am Elias Thorne, a man who has spent forty years bending wood into shapes that mimic the human form, yet I have never truly...
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