The Distant Temple
The cursor blinks on the screen, a steady, rhythmic pulse that matches the throb behind Elias Thorne’s left eye. He is forty-two, a senior archivist at the Meridian Institute, and his fingers hover over the keyboard, trembling slightly as he types the final citation for his monograph, *The Founding Silence*. The room is cold, the heating system in the east wing having failed three days ago, a...
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