The Golden Oath
The elevator stopped at the forty-second floor with a shudder that felt less like a mechanical failure and more like a sigh. Elias stepped out. The air was stale. It tasted of recycled dust and old coffee. He adjusted his tie. The knot was tight. Too tight. The lobby below was a cathedral of glass and steel. It was empty. The floors were polished to a mirror sheen. They reflected the ceiling...
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