The Distant Wound
The rain against the smart-glass was not water but data, a static hiss that Elias had long since learned to ignore, though the Echo never did. He sat in the sterile white of his apartment in Aethelgard, the city’s high-tech sprawl humming beneath the floorboards, and stared at the tablet in his hands. It displayed a single, blinking cursor, waiting for a signature. He needed Julian’s name on...
0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews