The Distant Temple

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2026-08-25 13:52:49 -

Act I "Did you file the requisition for the moss?" Refugio Domínguez looked up from his desk, the pen still trembling in his hand. The light in the office was failing, slanting low and orange through the dusty window, catching the green fuzz that had begun to creep across the blotter. He was a man of forty, precise in his movements, precise in his debts, and precise in his hatred of the Temple...

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