The Distant Threshold

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2026-08-25 08:46:44 -

Act I The archive ships ran on a schedule that respected no one, not the saints, not the debtors, not the dead. Camille Chargois woke in the barrack room of the Sainte-Famille, the air heavy with the scent of wet hemp and the metallic tang of his own cough, which had grown a new, hollow depth since the last inspection. He was forty-two, an inquisitor of the second rank, and his lungs were...

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