The Golden Greenhouse

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2026-08-19 01:53:05 -

The glass shattered against my temple. I did not bleed. It simply cut the air, a high, thin scream that silenced the courtyard. I stood in the center of the shatter, holding the shard in my left hand. It was not glass. It was bone. Around me, the crowd of judges sat in their high-backed chairs, carved from black oak. They wore robes of deep violet, stiff with starch and silence. There were...

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