The Wistful Throne
The recording device in your hand is warm, its plastic casing sweating in the damp air of the antechamber. You press the red button, the light blinking with a steady, mechanical pulse, and you wait for the silence to break. It does not. Instead, a low hum rises from the stone floor, vibrating up through the soles of your shoes, a frequency that feels less like sound and more like pressure...
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