The Distant Threshold

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2026-08-22 04:23:27 -

The rain did not fall so much as it hung in the air, a suspended grey curtain that smelled of wet stone and old copper, inside the grand hall of Governor Vane’s estate where the chandeliers burned with a light that seemed to drain the color from the walls. Elias Thorne stood near the service entrance, his hand resting on the holster of his service pistol, feeling the heavy, damp weight of his...

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