The Golden Scar
The rain in the Sector did not fall from clouds, but from the high, grating mesh of the ventilation ducts that lined the ceiling of the undercity, a constant, rhythmic dripping that sounded like the slow ticking of a clock counting down to a verdict that had already been passed. Elias Vane sat in his small, windowless office, the walls lined with shelves of dusty, prohibited texts, and watched...
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