The Golden Ritual
The rain had been falling for three days, a relentless, industrial grey curtain that turned the cobblestones of the estate into slick, treacherous mirrors, reflecting the distorted, jagged skyline of the city beyond the moat, and Sergeant Elias Thorne stood in the center of the master bedroom, his back rigid against the weight of the air which felt thick, suffocating, and charged with a static...
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