The Golden Scar
The beetle in your palm does not merely rest; it vibrates with a rhythm that is not its own, a frantic, golden pulse that syncs perfectly with the thumping of your heart, a biological metronome counting down the minutes until the dawn bell rings and your fate is sealed. You are Silas, Warden of the Iron Citadel’s outer gate, and for the last six hours you have walked the spiraling stone...
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