The Distant Machine
The iron idol hummed in the dark, a low vibration that rattled the teeth and settled in the marrow. Sir Kaelen Ashworth pressed his back against the wet clay of the trench, his breathing shallow, trying to ignore the sound. It was not a mechanical noise. It was a voice, or the memory of one, promising that if he surrendered his fear, the pain would stop. He knew the rules of the Distant...
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