The Pale Banner
The dream was not a vision of glory but a schematic of failure, a blueprint drawn in the cold, unyielding ink of industrial reality, where every gear turned with the terrible precision of a mechanism designed to grind the soul into dust, and in that sleep, Elias Thorne saw the brass astrolabe again, not as a tool of navigation or a relic of a bygone scientific age, but as a shattered mirror...
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