The Distant Garden

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2026-08-23 05:11:57 -

The fog did not drift so much as it breathed, a slow, rhythmic expansion and contraction that pressed against the iron bars of the watchtower where you stood, your boots slick with the damp rot of the Grey Expanse. You were Elias Thorne, forty-two years old, a warden whose uniform had once been a sharp distinction of authority but now hung on you like a shroud, the fabric heavy with the...

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