The Golden Ritual
The dream began not with light, but with the heavy, wet thud of a hammer striking gold, a sound that resonated in the marrow of Major Elias Thorne’s sleeping bones, vibrating through the silk sheets of his marital bed and into the silent, watchful void of the room. He stood in a corridor of polished obsidian, the air thick with the scent of ozone and burnt sugar, walking toward a door that was...
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