The Distant Journey
The letter lay on the desk, the ink still wet, the paper crinkled from being handled too many times. Elias Thorne read it twice, then set it down. The seal was broken. The content was simple: a formal notice of review. His hands were steady, but his chest felt tight, as if a stone had been placed against his ribs. The archive smelled of dust and old glue, a scent that had settled into his skin...
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