The Golden Maze
Three hundred and twelve gears. That was the count. Elias Thorne counted them again, his thumb brushing the brass teeth, checking for the slight burr that the Gilded Fog left behind. It was Thursday, 4:00 PM. The Grand Orrery sat in the center of the workshop, a skeleton of steel and gold, waiting to breathe. Outside, the rain lashed against the high windows, a rhythmic drumming that sounded...
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