The Golden Scar
The cage door was not locked. It was open. That was the first thing Thomas noticed. He stood on the threshold of the Hall of Records, the air thick with the scent of ozone and old paper. The silence was heavy. It pressed against his eardrums. He looked back at the corridor. Empty. No guards. No cameras. Just the hum of the ventilation system, a low, constant drone that felt like a heartbeat....
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