The Golden Maze
The letter arrived on a Tuesday, the paper thick and cream-colored, smelling faintly of wax and old ink. It bore no return address, only a stamp from a district that had ceased to exist on the maps three decades prior. Major Elias Thorne did not open it immediately. He held it in his calloused hand, feeling the weight of the unspoken, and looked out the window of his office at the grey,...
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