The Golden Maze
The rain hit the glass in a steady, rhythmic thrum. It was the only sound in the bunker. Margaret stood by the narrow window, her reflection ghostly against the dark exterior. She watched the water streak down the pane. It blurred the world outside. The world outside was gone anyway. She turned to face the room. It was small. Concrete walls. Fluorescent lights buzzed overhead. A hum of...
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