The Distant Temple
The dream began, as it always did, with the smell of ozone and old paper, a scent that clung to the back of the throat like a bitter pill. Elias Thorne stood in the center of the atrium of the Meridian Corporation headquarters, a vast, glass-walled cathedral of corporate power where the air was filtered to a sterile, silent perfection. He was not wearing his usual grey suit, which he had worn...
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