The Golden Quest
The dream was a constant, low-frequency hum, a vibration you felt in the teeth before it registered in the mind, a static charge of rust and oil that coated the back of your throat. You were standing in the middle of the floor, surrounded by the towering, black iron skeletons of the looms, their needles clicking in a rhythm that matched the frantic, arrhythmic beating of your own heart. The air...
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