The Faded Ruin
The coat was not merely worn; it was inhabited. It clung to Dr. Elias Thorne’s shoulders with a viscosity that defied the physics of wool and tweed, a heavy, charcoal-gray mass that seemed to possess its own respiratory rhythm. In the sterile, humming corridors of the Bureau of Ontological Continuity, where the air smelled of ozone and crushed lavender, Elias was a figure of quiet authority, a...
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