The Distant Blade

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2026-08-23 21:27:10 -

The Distant Blade

The glass vial was cold against Elias Thorne’s palm, the glass so thin it felt less like a container and more like a skin stretched tight over something dark. He sat in the back of the taxi, watching the rain streak the window, blurring the neon signs of the Nové Město district into smears of red and blue. The driver did not speak; in Prague, silence was a commodity as expensive as the air one...

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