The Golden Song
The bell tower did not fall. It cracked. A hairline fracture, invisible to the naked eye but screaming to the stone. Elias stood in the plaza, his uniform torn, the dust of the city settling on his shoulders like ash. He was a sergeant. A man of order. But order had just dissolved into a frequency he could not hear, only feel. The air hummed. It was a low, thrumming vibration that rattled his...
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