The Golden Master

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2026-08-20 00:21:45 -

The Golden Master

The air in the mess hall tasted of copper and burnt sugar. It was a thick, sweet smell that clung to the back of the throat, heavy as wet wool. Captain Elias Thorne sat at the long oak table, his hands folded over a plate of untouched stew. The food sat there, steaming, congealing into something grey and opaque. Around him, the officers ate. They chewed with the rhythmic, hollow efficiency of...

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