The Golden Master
The rain had not stopped for three days, a relentless, gray curtain that turned the cobblestones of the industrial district into a slick, reflective mirror of the soot-stained factories looming overhead. Inside the small, damp house on the edge of the textile mills, Elias Thorne sat at the kitchen table, his hands wrapped around a ceramic mug that had long since cooled. He was a man shaped by...
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