The Golden Myth
The rain in the factory town of Oakhaven did not wash things clean; it merely made the grime slicker, turning the cobblestones into mirrors that reflected the smog-choked sky and the hunched, wet shoulders of the men who walked them. Elias Thorne woke not with a start, but with a slow, heavy sinking, as if he had been pulled down through the surface of a dark lake. He was standing in the center...
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