The Faded Root
The hammer fell. It did not strike wood. It struck the air, a dull thud against nothing, while the nail hung suspended in the beam, vibrating with a low, sickly hum. Elias watched the vibration. He did not blink. His hands were shaking, but the hammer stayed still, a heavy iron anchor in a storm of invisible forces. Across the room, Julian stood by the window. The glass was thick, industrial,...
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