The Golden Oath
The rain hit the glass. It did not stop. Elias stood at the window. The city was gray. The neon signs bled. Red. Blue. Pink. They smeared into long, wet lines. He watched them. He did not blink. His eyes burned. The tear ducts were full. He forced them down. He had to keep working. The scanner hummed. A low, steady drone. It filled the small room. It was the only sound. The machine was old. But...
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