The Distant Summer
The dream began with the sound of breaking glass. Not the sharp crack of a window pane, but the dull, heavy shatter of ice under a boot. Elias woke in the white room. The walls were seamless. The floor was seamless. There was no door. There was no window. There was only the hum of the machine that kept him alive, a low vibration that traveled up through the soles of his feet and settled in his...
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