The Pale Meridian
The collapse of the institute did not happen with a roar, but with the quiet, wet crunch of structural integrity failing under the weight of accumulated neglect, a sound like a giant bone breaking in the dark. Dr. Elias Thorne, the senior archivist and de facto guardian of the library’s more esoteric holdings, stood in the center of the main atrium, watching the dust motes dance in the shafts...
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