The Golden Ritual
The adhesive failed again, a viscous bead of cyanoacrylate sliding off the fractured rim of the chalice and pooling on the stone floor, a small, clear lake of failure in the center of the vault. I wiped it away with a cotton swab, my hand steady enough for the task but trembling in the wrist, a vibration that seemed to originate in the bone itself. Across the room, Director Halloway leaned...
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