The Distant Threshold
The rain did not fall so much as it pressed against the fourth-floor window of the Department of Applied Cryptography, a steady, rhythmic drumming that Elias Thorne felt not in his ears but in the molars of his jaw, a low-frequency vibration that had begun three days ago and refused to dissipate. He sat at his desk, the fluorescent lights humming a tune that seemed to sync with the arrhythmic...
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