The Golden Crossing
The rain lashed against the high, arched windows of the Ministry of Records, blurring the city lights into streaks of amber and grey. Elias stood before the mahogany desk, his hands trembling as he held the Golden Ledger, its leather cover warm to the touch, almost alive. "You must finish it tonight, Elias," Julian said, his voice low, stripped of its usual bureaucratic warmth. "The fiscal year...
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