The Distant Promise
The bell did not ring; it hummed, a low, vibrating thrum that I felt in the marrow of my teeth before I heard it in my ears. I was standing in the atrium of the Glass House, a structure of impossible geometry that defied the laws of physics, suspended in a twilight that belonged to no earthly season. The air tasted of ozone and cold iron. I looked down at my hands. They were trembling, not with...
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