The Distant Temple
Thorne, you’re late for the visitation window. The guard’s voice was flat, bored, the tone of a man checking a box on a clipboard. Elias stood up, his knees popping with a sound that seemed too loud in the quiet of the corridor. He adjusted the collar of his gray jumpsuit, the fabric stiff and rough against his neck, and followed the officer down the hall. The walls were painted a dull,...
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