The Golden Cellar
The stamp came down with a sound like a bone breaking, and Elias Thorne watched the red ink bleed into the paper, blurring the words *Approved for Demolition* until they were just a smear of violence. He stood in the grand atrium of the Ministry of Public Works, the air thick with the smell of old dust and floor wax, while Director Vane turned back to his desk without looking up, his back a...
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