The Distant Threshold
The stone did not break; it dissolved, a sudden and violent exhalation of dust that filled the air with the scent of wet chalk and old iron. You stood at the edge of the chasm, watching the architecture of your life collapse into a fine, grey powder that drifted down into the abyss below. This was the moment you had feared, the structural failure of the soul, yet it felt less like death and...
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