The Pale Bridge
The dream was not a vision but a blueprint, a schematic of impossible geometry that Elias Thorne had constructed in the hollows of his sleep, where the air smelled of wet limestone and the metallic tang of old blood, and in this dream he stood upon a bridge of white marble that spanned a chasm so deep it defied the physics of the waking world, a chasm that hummed with a low, subsonic frequency...
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