The Distant Joke

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2026-08-25 01:33:02 -

The Distant Joke

The hammer weighed three pounds, a standard issue tool of the trade, and Elias Thorne had counted the strikes in his head for six hours without sleep. One, two, three. The obsidian mirror hung in the hallway of the Thorne estate, a black slab of volcanic glass that had survived the war and the subsequent decay of the family’s fortune. It was cold to the touch, a damp chill that seeped through...

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