The Faded Frontier
The frontier was not a line on a map, but a wound in the earth that refused to heal. Elias Thorne stood at the edge of the salt flats and watched the horizon dissolve into heat distortion. Ten years he'd been coming back to this place—ten years of chasing something he couldn't name. The newspapers called it the Western Wasteland. The maps called it Territory. But Elias knew it for what it was:...
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