The Golden Maze
The iron gate groaned, a sound like a dying man clearing his throat, as Sergeant Elias Thorne shoved it open with his shoulder, the rusted metal scraping against the cobblestones of the perimeter wall which had not been swept in what felt like decades, if not centuries, in this place where the air tasted of ozone and old copper and the light fell in slanted, amber shafts that did not seem to...
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