The Distant Wound

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2026-08-21 20:49:23 -

The Distant Wound

The glass shatters before you can speak. It is a small, delicate thing, a prism of cut crystal that hangs from the ceiling of the interrogation room. It does not fall. It explodes. A thousand shards rain down, silent and cold, coating the floor in a glittering carpet. You stand in the center of it. Your hands are trembling. The shards do not cut you. They pass through your fingers like smoke,...

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