The Distant Wound

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2026-08-24 11:24:39 -

The Distant Wound

The static was not a sound but a pressure, a physical weight that pressed against Elias Thorne’s eardrums until his teeth ached. He stood in the detention block, the air thick with the smell of rotting orchids and ozone, gripping his father’s hand. The skin was blackened, withered, and cold, a mirror to the erosion he felt in his own soul. Elias was thirty-four, an enforcer for the Ministry,...

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