The Golden Maze
The dream was always the same: a labyrinth of iron and steam, corridors that twisted like intestines, walls that breathed. Elias Thorne woke with the taste of rust on his tongue, the clock in the industrial city of Oakhaven striking four in the morning. He was fifty years old, a structural engineer of thirty years’ standing, and for the last month, the Ironspire Mill had been shifting. Not...
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