The Golden Maze
The mirror cracked. It was a thin line. Like a vein. Elias saw it. He wiped the glass. The crack remained. He held the shard. It was cold. It was sharp. He looked at his face. The face was wrong. The eyes were too wide. The mouth was too tight. Not his face. Not anymore. "Who are you?" he asked. The glass did not answer. He turned away. The room was dark. The fire had died. Ashes. Cold gray...
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