The Distant Threshold
The file on the desk was cold, its edges worn soft by months of handling, and Elias Thorne did not look up when the door opened. "It’s not a structural failure, Commander," he said, his voice flat and steady, the tone of a man reading a blueprint rather than pleading his case. "The load-bearing walls are sound. The foundation is granite. But the angles do not add up." Commander Halloway, a man...
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