The Golden Echoes
The dream was always the same, a loop of gold and red that Elias Thorne could not shake from his bones even after he woke, the sweat cooling on his skin in the thin air of the cabin. He lay still for a moment, listening to the tick of the old clock on the wall, his heart hammering against his ribs with a rhythm that felt less like life and more like a failing engine, a mechanical sputter that...
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