The Distant Temple
The ink bled into the vellum with a wet, sucking sound, spreading like a bruise under the skin of the page. Elias Thorne watched the letters of the *Codex Aeterna* rearrange themselves, the ancient script shifting from its usual geometric rigidity into a jagged, frantic scribble that mirrored the static in his head. He was forty-two years old, tenured, and three months away from the review that...
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