The Golden Greenhouse
The train hissed to a halt, a long, metallic exhalation that seemed to suck the warmth from the carriage. You stepped onto the platform at Ashworth Station, your boots sinking slightly into the gravel, damp and cold. The air here tasted of iron and old stone, a flavor that coated the back of your throat before you could swallow. You adjusted the strap of your satchel, feeling the weight of the...
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