The Golden Quest
The cold in the Ministry basement is not a temperature; it is a presence. It presses against my ribs, a physical weight that demands acknowledgment. I am Elias Thorne, forty-two years old, and I have served the Department of Antiquities for twenty years. My hands are stained with the dust of centuries, but my body is failing. The pension is three months away, and without it, I am destitute. I...
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