The Distant Temple
The gavel fell. A sound like a bone snapping in the dark. Dr. Elias Thorne stood. His knees shook. He did not care. The courtroom was a box of white wood and colder air. He wore his suit. It was thin. The wool scratched. He felt the scratch. He felt the cold. He felt the weight of his own silence. The judge looked down. The judge was a man of stone. His face was a map of wrinkles. He said,...
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