The Golden Myth
You leave the palace. The air is cold, sharp, and smells of wet stone. You are the inspector. You carry a ledger and a flashlight. The battery is low. The beam is weak. You are alone. The palace stands in the valley. It is old. The stones are gray. The ivy is black. It has been here for centuries. It has watched the empires rise and fall. It does not care. You do not care. You are here for the...
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