The Distant Temple
The obsidian fragment hummed against Elias Thorne’s palm, a low, tectonic vibration that rattled the teeth in his skull. It was not a sound, exactly, but a pressure, a psychic weight that pressed against the inside of his eyelids until the white office lights blurred into a singular, blinding point. Elias rubbed his eyes, the dry skin flaking under his fingers, and looked at the artifact in his...
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