The Wistful Asylum

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2026-08-20 11:46:16 -

The iron bars of my cell were not cold, as one might expect, but they hummed with a low, resonant frequency that vibrated in the marrow of my bones. I was Captain Elias Thorne, or at least, that was the name stitched into the tattered wool of my uniform, though I had not spoken it aloud in three days. The air in this place, which the guards called the Aetheric Containment Ward, smelled of ozone...

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