The Golden Quest
The rain against the leaded glass of the observatory was not a sound but a texture, a relentless, cold friction that seemed to grind the very stones of the tower into dust. Elias Thorne stood before the telescope, his hands trembling not from the chill that had seeped into his bones over the last decade, but from the sheer, crushing weight of what he had seen, or rather, what he had failed to...
0 Comments 0 Shares 5 Views 0 Reviews