The Golden Song
The bell above the Ministry’s main entrance did not ring so much as it cleared its throat, a dry, metallic rasp that announced Elias Thorne’s arrival to the empty lobby. He was forty-two, a senior archivist who had spent two decades dusting the corners of history, and his mind was currently a tight knot of ambition and fatigue. He wanted the promotion. He wanted the title of Head of Special...
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