The Faded Frequency
The first thing Elias Thorne did upon waking was count the seconds. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten. The rhythm was steady, a metronomic pulse that anchored him to the physical world, even as the air in the imperial workshop grew thick with the scent of ozone and heated brass. He sat on the edge of the bed, his hands trembling slightly, not from age, but from the...
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