The Golden Crossing
The hand of Captain Elias Thorne trembled as he uncorked the vial, the golden syrup catching the light of the chandelier like liquid amber. It was a small, heavy weight against his palm, a physical anchor in the swirling air of the industrial gala. Around him, the factory owners in their tailored suits laughed over glasses of wine that smelled faintly of sulfur, their voices bouncing off the...
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