The Golden Crossing
Elias Thorne. The summons came not from the Guild Master, but from the noise itself, a low, golden hum that vibrated in the teeth of every man seated at the long oak table. It was the sound of the main gear, the brass heart of the Millbrook Textile Works, beating in time with the lungs of the three hundred workers on the floor below. Elias sat at the head of the table, his hands resting on the...
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