The Golden Scar
"You are late again, Elara. The clock does not bleed for you. It only ticks." The voice of Director Halloway was not loud, but it possessed the weight of iron sunk in deep water. I stood in the antechamber of the Spire, my hands trembling so violently that I could barely keep the stylus from scratching a jagged line across the digital parchment before me. The antechamber was a sterile white...
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