The Golden Crossing

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2026-08-23 06:46:48 -

The atrium of the Ministry of Vital Statistics smelled of rotting peaches and fresh gold leaf, a cloying, sweet stench that clung to the back of my throat and settled in the creases of my skin. I stood before the long banquet table, my hands trembling so violently that the crystal goblet in my grip rang against its saucer with a high, thin note, and I watched as Director Vane, his face a mask...

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