The Golden Maze
The bone was cracked. Miles saw it in the dream. A white sliver. A jagged line through the femur. He woke gasping. The air in the cell was thick. It tasted of rust. Of old sweat. He rubbed his leg. The skin was cold. The bone was whole. Or so he thought. The corridor stretched out. Stone walls. Damp. The guards walked past. Boots on stone. Clack. Clack. Clack. They did not look at him. They...
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