The Distant Journey
The champagne stings your throat, sharp and acidic, a taste that does not sit well with the heavy, cloying scent of the Exchange banquet hall. You are Elias Thorne, forty-five, a man who has built his reputation on the precision of gears and the silence of seconds, yet here you are, drowning in the noise of your own success. The room is a blur of silk and brass, dignitaries clinking glasses,...
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