The Golden Compass
The dream was always the same, a blur of gold and iron where a needle spun so fast it became a solid disk of light, and Elias Thorne woke with his heart hammering against his ribs, the taste of salt and rust still clinging to the back of his throat. He was forty years old, a foreman at the Greyport Docks, a man who had spent two decades measuring the integrity of wood and steel, yet in the...
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