The Faded Ruin
The corridors of the State Sanatorium smelled of antiseptic and old dust, a scent that Elias Thorne had inhaled for twenty years without once noticing its sting. He moved with the careful, deliberate precision of a man whose body was slowly betraying his will, his fingers trembling as he reached for the final vial of Clarity serum on the metal shelf. The liquid inside was a pale, cloudy blue,...
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