The Golden Maze
"You missed the line." The voice was not Julian’s. It was Elias’s own, but a fraction of a second behind, stripped of the roughness that came from his throat and left only the hollow echo of intent. Elias did not look up. He could not. To look up was to see the polished surface of the gold plate, and in that surface, the Echo was waiting. It mimicked his right hand, the one holding the...
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