The Golden Scar
The argument was already in full swing when the first shard of the mirror came loose, a jagged piece of silvered glass that caught the harsh, electric hum of the ventilation system and threw a fractured rainbow across the dust motes dancing in the air. Elias Vane did not flinch, though his hands, trembling with a rigor that had nothing to do with the cold, tightened around the edges of the...
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