The Golden Maze
The separation was not marked by a tear in the fabric of the sky, but by the sudden, absolute silence of the world behind them, a silence so profound it pressed against the eardrums like deep water, leaving Elias Thorne standing on the precipice of the known, his boots caked in the red clay of the valley he had defended for twenty years, while the air ahead shimmered with a heat that smelled of...
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