The Distant Temple

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2026-08-21 08:58:12 -

The morning you arrived at the Ministry of Internal Consolidation, the air smelled of wet wool and stale coal smoke, and you carried a crate of broken porcelain shards in your arms like a dead bird, each fragment sharp enough to cut the skin of your palms, bleeding a thin, warm line that you wiped away with the back of your hand as you walked through the heavy oak doors. You were not supposed...

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