The Golden Compass
The rain did not fall so much as it was pressed against the glass of the command center, a gray, relentless smear that blurred the lights of the city below into long, weeping streaks of amber and sodium. You sat in the chair, the leather creaking under the weight of your uniform, a sound that was too loud in the silence of the room, a sound that felt like a bone snapping. The compass on the...
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