The Golden Scar
The cough started in the throat, a dry rasp that turned to wet, heavy blows by the time Elias reached the communal sink in Sector Four. He spat into the grey rag, checking the color. It was pink, diluted by the soot water, but the streak of crimson was unmistakable. The state-issued inhaler, a cold metal tube that smelled of ozone and punishment, did nothing. The air in New Keth was thick with...
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