The Distant Nightmare
The cart groaned under the weight of the stone, a sound that seemed to come from the earth itself rather than the wood, as Professor Elias Thorne guided his mule along the narrow track that cut through the heather. The air in the Scottish Highlands was thin and cold, carrying the metallic scent of impending rain and the faint, ozone-like charge that had been building in his chest for three...
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