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2026-08-15 11:21:35 -

Arthur Pendelton held the gold ring in his palm the way a priest might hold a relic—reverently, as though the metal itself were consecrated by something beyond mere chemistry and craftsmanship. It was small, unremarkable to anyone else: a simple band of brushed gold, scratched at the inner edge where years of nervous twisting had worn away the polish. But to Arthur, it was the anchor point of...

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