The Pale Fracture
The silence in the White Spire was not an absence of sound, but a heavy, physical substance that settled against the skin like wet wool. Elias Thorne stood alone in the center of the Hall of Mirrors, a vast, circular chamber where the floor was polished obsidian and the walls were composed entirely of silvered glass, curved to infinity. He was the Warden of the Third Shift, a title that carried...
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