You are listening to a Clarksworld magazine podcast. I'm your host and narrator, Kate Baker.

Greetings, Clark's World Citizens. I hope this podcast finds you extraordinarily well.

Welcome to the second to the last story of the month for December 2025.

The second to the last story of the year. Issue 231. I want to thank you for spending all this time

with me over the years, over the last month, over the last few stories. And with that, your support.

Your Patreon.com forward slash Clark's World contribution, your donation via Patreon. Your subscription, you telling a friend about a story

that you like. We can't do this without you. And as we go into 2026, I want to thank you for letting

me do something I so enjoy doing. I love telling you a story. And this story is titled,

This Sepulchral Aegis and it by Rob Gillum.

Rob Gillum is an author of weird and dark fantasy short fiction. He lives in London, UK. His writing

occurs in the margins of the day where it competes for his time with playing double bass

in an obscure gothic rockabilly

band. Rob's stories have appeared or are currently due to appear in Escape Pod, Collider Trope,

cosmic horror monthly, wild blood, tales to terrify, and creepy podcast among others. You can find

links to all his published work and rarely use social media at his website.

And his website is robgillam.com.

So my dear listener, I hope that you can sit back, relax, and let me tell you a story.

Somewhere deep within the ancient starship, a bell told.

The weight of years had rendered the absence of noise on the bridge a tangible force.

It pressed upon the basilica-sized arena, as heavy and cloying as the sticky black compound of soot and atmospheric moisture that coated the instruments on the bridge. The discordant

bell ended the hush echoing around the extremities of the vast chamber, irreverent as a raised

voice in a necropolis. The figure at the heart of the

...