The Pale Fracture
The glass shattered. Not broke. Shattered. A clean, violent fracture. Elias dropped to his knees. The shards glittered like crushed diamonds in the sterile white light. He picked one up. The edge was sharp. It bit into his thumb. A bead of red bloomed. He did not flinch. He pressed the fragment against his skin. The pain was sharp. Clear. Real. "Stop," said the voice. It came from the ceiling....
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