The Distant Legend
The dream had no floor. It was a void of grey static, humming with a low, electrical dread. In the center of the nothingness stood a glass box. Inside the box sat a child. The child was made of silver wire and rusted gears. It looked at Elias. It did not blink. It did not breathe. It simply waited. Elias woke. The alarm clock on the nightstand was screaming. 6:00 AM. The digital red numbers...
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