The Golden Ritual
The rain tapped against the window of my office, a rhythmic, digital static that seemed to synchronize with the decay of my synapses. I looked at the object on my desk, a simple silver cufflink, its surface tarnished by the oils of a thousand hands and the indifference of time. To the untrained eye, it was merely metal. To me, it was a glitch in the code of the world, a fragment of a loop that...
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