The Distant Machine
The chisel bit deep into the limestone, and the sound was wrong. It was not the sharp, dry crack of iron meeting mineral, but a dull, wet thud, as if the stone were soft meat. Elias pulled his hand back, his fingers slick with a moisture that was not sweat. The archway stood incomplete in the center of the courtyard, a skeletal curve of grey blocks that seemed to breathe in the thinning...
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