The Distant Threshold
Act I Teodoro Talamantes remembered the weight of the silver clasp only after it had cracked, a jagged fracture running through the polished metal like a vein of lightning frozen in time, and he stood now in the church basement, the air heavy with damp wool and the stale, coppery tang of the blood that had been scrubbed from the floorboards a decade prior, looking back at the night his ambition...
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