The Golden Oath

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2026-08-20 15:19:30 -

The Golden Oath

The air in the Ministry of Internal Security tasted of rust and ozone. It was a sharp, metallic flavor that coated the tongue. Elias Thorne sat in a high-backed chair. His hands were still. He wore the uniform of the Royal Guard. The fabric was stiff. It smelled of sweat and old tobacco. Outside the window, the city of London churned. Steam rose from the grates. The year was 1893. The sky was...

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