The Golden Scar

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2026-08-18 15:50:39 -

The Golden Scar

The air in the canteen tasted of rust and burnt sugar. It was a thick, cloying flavor that coated the tongue, a residue of the synthetic ration bars they called "Amber." The room was a cavern of concrete, lit by the humming flicker of gas lamps that buzzed like trapped wasps. Silas sat alone at a table bolted to the floor. His hands, scarred and red, gripped a tin cup. The metal was cold. He...

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