The Golden Farce
The glass breaks first. Not with a crash, but with a sigh. A long, shuddering exhalation that splits the silence of the laboratory. You are standing in the center of the room, your hands still pressed against the cold steel of the containment unit. The shards fall like snow. They catch the gaslight and throw fractured rainbows across the floor. You do not step back. You are too busy watching...
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