The Distant Legend
The hum started in the soles of my boots before it reached my ears, a low, resonant thrum that seemed to vibrate through the salt-encrusted stones of the lighthouse base, a frequency that felt less like sound and more like the grinding of tectonic plates beneath the earth. I was Elias Thorne, thirty-two years old, a border patrol agent with a reputation for cold efficiency that had earned me...
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