The Golden Ritual
The building did not breathe, but it exhaled a cold, metallic sigh that settled in the lungs like fine dust, a sensation that Margaret had long since mistaken for the ambient hum of the server farms humming in the basement, though the truth was far more intimate and far more terrifying. She stood before the Great Hall’s central pillar, a monolith of polished obsidian that rose from the floor to...
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