The Golden Mirror
The rain hammered against the single pane of glass in Elias Thorne’s office, a rhythmic, mechanical assault that did nothing to quiet the noise in his head. He sat in the dark, the only light source a rectangular glow emanating from the evidence locker in the corner. Inside the glass, a mirror hung, its surface shifting from dull silver to a pulsating, visceral gold. It was not reflecting...
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