The Distant Threshold
The mud is cold against your knees, a thick, sucking clay that holds you in place like a grave. You are on your hands and knees in the middle of the valley, the air tasting of iron and wet pine, and the silence is so absolute it rings in your ears. Your partner, Elias, is gone. Not dead, not yet, but gone in the way that matters most: he has crossed the line from man to object, from ally to...
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