The Pale Fracture
The rain did not fall so much as it was extracted from the sky, a thick, grey curtain that erased the horizon and sealed the world inside the walls of the Ministry. Inside the Grand Hall, the air was stale, recycled, and tasted faintly of copper and old paper. Elias Thorne stood before the high desk, his hands trembling not from cold, but from the sheer, crushing weight of the silence. He was a...
0 Kommentare 0 Geteilt 1 Ansichten 0 Bewertungen