The Golden Master
The rain did not fall so much as it hung in the air, a suspended gray mist that clung to the shoulders of Major Elias Thorne as he walked the perimeter of the detention center, his boots squelching softly in the mud that had turned the yard into a slick, brown mirror reflecting the low, indifferent sky. He was moving with the rigid, practiced cadence of a man who had spent decades measuring the...
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