The Golden Crossing

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2026-08-20 15:03:32 -

The rain did not fall so much as it descended, a heavy, grey curtain of mist that erased the boundary between the stone walls of the Inquisitor’s cell and the void beyond. Thomas Bradshaw stood with his back against the cold, damp masonry, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps that misted before his face. His hands were bound not by rope or iron, but by a shimmering, viscous light that...

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