The Golden Scar
The dream began, as it always did, with the scent of ozone and the taste of copper on the tongue, a metallic tang that coated the teeth and seemed to vibrate against the very roots of the skull, a phantom warning of electricity that had not yet struck but was already humming in the air like a plucked wire, thick and taut, pulling at the nerves until they snapped into a sharp, bright focus that...
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