The Distant Promise
The air inside the Blackwood Asylum was thick, a visible weight that pressed against the eardrums and settled into the lungs like wet ash, so that every breath drawn by Elias Thorne was an act of violent labor, a scraping of the chest against the ribs, a reminder that he was still flesh, still bound to the machinery of his own failing body, still trapped within the iron lattice of a mind that...
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