The Golden Scar
The soup was cold. It sat in the tin bowl before me, a grey, opaque sludge that smelled of boiled wool and forgotten days. I pushed a spoon into it, dragging the metal through the surface. It broke the skin of the broth. The steam had long since vanished. My name is Elias Thorne. I am a Senior Archivist at the Bureau of Nutritional Continuity. We call ourselves guardians, though the title feels...
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