The Golden Scar
The air in the Restoration Chamber tasted of dust and ozone. Elias Thorne stood before the workbench, his fingers hovering over the fractured face of the Golden Scar. It was a ceremonial tablet of gilded bronze, once a symbol of the Ministry of Civic Harmony’s unbreakable unity, now a mosaic of jagged shards that reflected the harsh fluorescent lights in broken, mocking fragments. He wanted to...
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