The Golden Ritual
The dream came to me not as a vision, but as a procedural error, a glitch in the system of sleep where the code of my body failed to compile. I was standing in the kitchen, the linoleum floor cold and unyielding under my boots, holding a small, rectangular object that hummed with a low, electrical frequency. It was a token, a badge of authority, though the insignia on its face was blurred,...
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