The Golden Farce
The ballroom was a mouth. It hung open in the dark, a cavern of gold leaf and dust, suspended in a void that smelled of ozone and old blood. Captain Elias Thorne stood at the center of the floor. He held a key. It was heavy. It was cold. It was the only thing in the world that was real. The room was full of people. They wore suits of silver and coats of blue. They moved like smoke. They did not...
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