The Distant Machine
The hum is louder today. It vibrates in the teeth, a low, grinding frequency that seems to originate not from the iron object in my hands, but from the marrow of my own wrists. I am Elias Thorne, Senior Guard of the Outer Threshold, and I have held this artifact for forty-seven days. It is a block of dark, unpolished metal, no larger than a brick, yet it possesses a weight that defies its...
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