The Golden Circuit
The fog in Manchester did not lift so much as it thinned, a grey gauze pulled slowly from the face of the city, revealing the skeletal grid of iron and brick beneath. Elias Thorne stood at the window of his cell in the Millgate Penitentiary, his hands pressed against the cold glass until the knuckles turned white. He was not there for the crime of theft, nor for the violence that the public...
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