The Faded Frontier
The glass was already broken when I picked it up, though I didn’t know that yet. It sat on the mahogany desk in the center of the archive, a simple sphere of polished quartz no larger than a plum. To the untrained eye, it was just a piece of decor, a remnant of the office’s Victorian past. But I had been staring at it for three days, and in my head, it was screaming. "Stop looking at it,...
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