The Golden Mirror
The dream was always the same: a fracture in gold, a shard falling, and the sound of it shattering against stone. Elias Thorne woke with the taste of dust in his mouth, the fluorescent light of his apartment humming a low, electric note that seemed to vibrate in his teeth. He was thirty-four, an archivist of middling rank and middling ambition, a man who had spent the last twelve years...
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