The Pale Fracture
The High Warden smiled, and the air split. It was a thin, pale line, glowing with a cold, sickly light that cut straight through the center of his face, from his left temple to his chin. The crack did not move. It simply existed, a fracture in the substance of the room, humming with a low, electric buzz that made the hair on Elias Thorne’s arms stand up. Elias stood before the tribunal table,...
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