The Faded Root
The clock on the wall ticked with a rhythm that seemed to synchronize itself with the arrhythmic fluttering in Elias Thorne’s chest, a mechanical heartbeat that mocked the failing organ beneath his ribs. He stood in the center of the interrogation room, a sterile white box devoid of windows or mercy, clutching a rusted iron key so tightly that the metal bit into the calluses of his palm. Across...
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