The Golden Scar
Elias Thorne. The name was called out by the clerk at the intake desk, a dry, papery sound that seemed to scrape against the high vaulted ceiling of the Ministry of Memory. It was a summons for the annual purge, a routine check of loyalty and competence that determined who would hold a permanent post and who would be quietly erased from the payroll. Elias stood in the queue, his hands clasped...
0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews