The Golden Oath
The alarm did not ring. That was the first wrongness, a silence so profound it felt like a physical weight pressing against the eardrums. I sat up in my bunk in Sub-Level 4, the concrete walls humming with the low, rhythmic thrum of the ventilation fans. My hand went to the side of the bed, not for the light, but for the hilt of the ceremonial sword I kept there. It was cold, heavier than it...
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