The Golden Compass

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2026-08-20 01:03:46 -

You wake with the taste of iron in your mouth, not blood, but the old, cold taste of the earth after a long rain, and you are standing in a field that stretches out into a sky so pale it looks like bleached bone. You are wearing the armor, the heavy plate mail that used to belong to your father, though it feels different now, heavier, as if the metal has grown rust and weight with every year...

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