The Distant Threshold

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2026-08-20 05:59:12 -

I woke in the dust, not the warm dust of a summer afternoon, but the cold, gray powder of a city that had not seen the sun in a century. The air tasted of iron and old rain. I was standing in the center of a square, the paving stones cracked and weeping moss, and I knew, with the certainty of a bone set wrong, that I was no longer where I had left the day. My uniform, the heavy wool of the...

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