The Distant Threshold
The seal broke not with a sound, but with a sigh of dust. Dr. Elias Thorne woke in the center of a circular room that did not exist on any map of the Abbey of St. Jude’s. The air was thick, tasting of dry rot and ancient ink, a flavor that coated the back of his throat like a bad memory. He lay on his back, staring up at a ceiling lost in shadow, his body aching with a profound, hollow...
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