The Golden Mirror
Thorne. The name hangs in the air, sharp as a scalpel, cut by the Director’s dry voice. You stand in the center of the archive, the scent of decaying paper and lemon oil thick in your throat. Your hands are trembling, a subtle vibration that travels up the bone and settles in the teeth. You are Elias Thorne, forty-two years old, a senior archivist who has spent two decades cataloguing the...
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