The Distant Nightmare
The letter lay on the desk, the ink still damp in the corners where Elias Thorne’s signature had been pressed. It was a resignation form, pre-filled by the administration, waiting for a date and a reason. Elias did not sign it. He pushed it aside, his fingers brushing the cold wood of the archive table, and turned his attention to the object that had consumed the last six months of his life....
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