The Distant Wound

added blog Literature

2026-08-20 15:04:16 -

The Distant Wound

The air in the Atrium did not smell of the iron-rich dust that choked the lower levels, but of ozone and stale lilies, a cloying perfume that seemed to seep from the very walls of the Ministry. Silas Vane stood at the edge of the obsidian dais, his boots polished to a mirror shine that reflected the distorted, elongated shapes of the crowd below. He was a man carved from the same rigid stone as...

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