The Faded Frequency
The room smelled of wet wool and old dust. Miles sat on the floor. His back was against the cold brick. He watched the clock. The second hand ticked. It was loud. He had been here for three days. The walls were bare. No windows. Just a heavy steel door. It was locked from the outside. A small light burned above it. It never went out. Miles touched his wrist. There was no watch. He had lost...
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