The Golden Harbor
The knife slipped. Not into flesh. Into the air. Elias struck again. The air resisted. It tasted of copper and old rain. He was a Marine. He knew how to hold a blade. He knew the weight of it. But this weight was wrong. It was heavy with something else. Something that hummed against his teeth. He was in the hallway. The hallway was long. It stretched back into a darkness that had no floor. The...
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