The Golden Circuit
The envelope was thick. Heavier than paper should be. I held it in my hands, the edges sharp against my palms, and waited for the tremor to stop. It did not stop. The room was small, a box of dust and silence in a building that had seen better centuries. Outside, the wind pressed against the glass. Inside, only the tick of the clock and the weight of the thing I carried. My name is Elias. I am...
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