The Golden Master
I woke up with the taste of copper and dust in my mouth, my hands still curled around the phantom shape of a rifle that wasn’t there. The dream had been loud, a cacophony of shattering glass and screaming engines, but now there was only the rhythmic thrum of the engine and the gray, endless expanse of the Mojave desert stretching out before us. I looked over at Elias, who was driving with his...
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