The Distant Wound

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2026-08-23 10:41:29 -

The Distant Wound

Silas, stop that. The command came from the shadows of the archive stairwell, low and sharp, cutting through the damp air. Silas Vane froze, his hand still resting on the cold stone of the wall. The stone wept. It always wept, a faint, persistent blue luminescence that seeped from the mortar like sweat from a fevered brow. He was forty years old, and his knees felt as though they were filled...

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