The Pale Meridian
I was tightening the final bolt on the Spire’s central column when the vibration hit me, a low thrum that bypassed my ears and settled directly into the marrow of my shin. I stopped. The wrench slipped from my sweating grip, clattering against the concrete floor, and the sound was swallowed instantly by the hum. It was the same frequency I had spent three months listening to through the wall of...
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