The Golden Crossing

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2026-08-17 18:22:49 -

The dream was not of sleep but of stone. It pressed against the back of his skull, cold and unyielding, a wall that breathed. Silas woke with the taste of iron on his tongue, the old taste, the taste of duty. He sat up in the narrow cot in the attic room. The city below was silent, a sea of grey rooftops under a moon that looked like a pale eye staring through the dark. It was a city of...

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