The Beacon of Aethelgard
The ballroom of the *S.S. Opulence* was a whirlwind of gold leaf, champagne, and the desperate laughter of the Interstellar Elite. It was the height of the Gilded Age of the Galaxy, an era where wealth was measured not in credits, but in the number of star-systems one owned. I moved through the crowd, my tuxedo sharp, my smile a practiced mask of diplomatic grace, yet my heart felt like a lead...
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