The Golden Scar
The dream was not a dark place, as I had been led to believe by the frightened whispers of my peers, but a vast, sterile expanse of white light that hummed against the eardrums like a distant, sustained note of a cello. I stood in the center of this blinding clarity, my hands bound not by rope or wire, but by a profound and aching sense of duty that had calcified into bone, holding me fast to...
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