The Golden Song
The train does not carry you forward so much as it drags you through the membrane of the world, a heavy, iron beast groaning against the rails in the damp, coal-choked twilight. You are Elias, and you are small against the vast, indifferent machinery of the state that has claimed your name, your history, and your future. The carriage is a sealed tomb of varnished oak and heavy velvet, the air...
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