The Golden Maze
The silence in the house was not an absence of sound but a presence, a thick, viscous fluid that filled the rooms of the ancestral estate, pressing against the eardrums of Colonel Elias Thorne, a man who had spent thirty years ordering the chaos of the world into geometric lines of command and consequence. He sat alone in the study, the fire dying in the hearth, the embers pulsing with a faint,...
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