The Golden Scar
The smell of damp paper and stale coffee hung in the air of the Ministry of Reconciliation, a thick, cloying fog that settled into the pores of Elias Thorne’s skin as he stood before the filing cabinet in Sub-Basement Four. He had been here for four hours, the fluorescent lights humming a low, sickly note that seemed to vibrate directly in his teeth, and his eyes burned from the strain of...
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