The Golden Visit
The ink on the forged transit pass was still wet, bleeding into the fiber of the paper in Elias Thorne’s trembling hand. He stood at the northern gate, the cold mist of the riverbank clinging to his wool coat, watching the heavy iron doors of the checkpoint swing open on their rusted hinges. Behind him, the city of Veridia hummed with the low, electric thrum of a machine that had stopped caring...
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