The Golden Harbor
The rain did not fall so much as it invaded, a cold, metallic sheet that hammered against the reinforced glass of the penthouse suite, blurring the sprawling, neon-drenched cityscape below into a smear of electric blue and sickly yellow, a visual noise that screamed against the sterile, hushed silence of the interior where Elias Thorne sat, his hands trembling not from the chill of the...
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