The Golden Downtown
The rain had not stopped for three days, a relentless, grey curtain that blurred the edges of the world and turned the air into a heavy, wet wool. Inside the precinct’s breakroom, a space that smelled of stale coffee and damp wool, Captain Elias Thorne sat alone at a scarred wooden table, his hands wrapped around a mug that had long since gone cold. He was a man carved from the same material as...
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