The Wistful Incense

added blog Literature

2026-08-20 11:00:00 -

The rain against the floor-to-ceiling glass of the Observation Deck was not a sound but a vibration, a low-frequency hum that I felt in the marrow of my teeth. I stood before the containment field, watching the prisoner, a man named Silas, sleep. He was a warrior in the old sense, his body a map of scars and steel, his face a topography of rigid endurance. He wore the standard-issue restraints,...

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