The Golden Crossing
The mist that clings to the highlands of Cumbria in the autumn of 1924 is not merely water vapor suspended in cold air, but a heavy, breathing substance that erodes the boundary between the solid earth and the void, and you, Elias, stand at the center of this dissolution holding a brass theodolite that weighs more than your own will, your fingers numb inside woolen gloves as you attempt to fix...
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