The Faded Ruin
The thermal probe sank into the vellum with a resistance that felt less like friction and more like a held breath, the tip of the instrument trembling against a surface that should have been dead paper. Elias Thorne pulled the device back, wiping the condensation from the lens with a rag that smelled of ozone and old dust, his eyes fixed on the topographic lines that seemed to writhe under the...
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