The Golden Scar
The dream did not come to Elias Vane in the dark of his bed, but in the grey, pre-dawn hour when the walls of the Sanatorium seemed to breathe a cold, medicinal fog into the corridors. He stood not in his room, but in the Great Hall, a space of vaulted brick and stained glass that had once celebrated the triumphs of the Old Republic, but now served as the central processing unit for the...
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