The Distant Threshold
The glass was not merely broken; it was annihilated, a shattered constellation of prisms that lay in a glittering, jagged field across the floor of the High Council Chamber, reflecting the chandeliers in a thousand fractured, weeping eyes. Elara stood in the center of this debris, her fingers still tingling with the residual hum of the resonance she had unleashed, her breath coming in shallow,...
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