The Pale Altar

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2026-08-20 15:12:03 -

The Pale Altar

The rain against the leaded glass of the observatory was not a sound, but a texture, a gritty friction that seemed to grind against the inside of Thomas’s skull. He stood before the great brass telescope, his hands resting on the cold metal, feeling the vibration of the storm outside as if it were the pulse of the building itself. "Dr. Whitmore," the voice came from the shadows behind the door....

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