The Golden Mirror
The rain hammers the glass of the tribunal room, a relentless, rhythmic assault that blurs the faces of the three men seated across from you. You are Elias Thorne, forty-two, and you want to speak. You want to clear your name before the dawn breaks and the institution buries you in its own archives. But the Golden Mirror sits on the table between you, a slab of polished gold that does not...
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