The Golden Song
"Stop touching the files, Elias. You are out of your depth." Halloway’s voice was thin, stretched over the noise of the ventilation fans. Elias stood by the heavy iron door of the basement archive, his hand still resting on the cold steel handle. He did not pull his hand away. The air in the corridor was stale, thick with the smell of dust and old paper, and beneath that, the low, persistent...
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