The Pale Path
Thorne. The name hung in the cold air of the laboratory, sharp and final, spoken by Dr. Aris with the flat, clipped precision of a man who had long since stopped seeing people and started seeing liabilities. Elias did not turn around. He stood at the bench, his back to the door, his hands wrapped around a glass vial that felt heavy and warm in his palms, a weight that was both a comfort and a...
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