The Golden Scar
The fire starts with a scream that is not human, a sound like tearing metal that splits the night air of Oakhaven. You are on your knees in the mud of the Foundry District, your uniform soaked through with rain and soot, watching the smoke rise in a column of black and orange against the industrial skyline. The Golden Scar on your left forearm begins to pulse, a low, rhythmic heat that spreads...
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