The Golden Maze
The gavel struck the oak block, a sharp crack that echoed off the vaulted ceiling, and the Judge leaned forward, his lip curled in a sneer that bared his yellowed teeth. "Your plea is the rambling of a cursed woman," he said, his voice flat and final. "The gold on your hand is a mark of theft, not innocence. You will be cast into the Labyrinth of Echoes." I stood there, my left hand fused into...
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