The Golden Scar
The stamp hit the paper with a sound like a bone breaking. Rejected. Residual Anomaly. Elias Thorne stared at the red ink bleeding into the grain of the petition, his fingers trembling around the golden brooch in his pocket. It hummed, a low vibration that traveled up his wrist and settled in the hollow of his throat. The air in the Ministry of Order tasted of iron and static, a metallic tang...
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