The Faded Road
The air in the valley tasted of iron and old blood. Captain Elias Thorne wiped the grime from his visor. The metal was cold. His hands shook. Not from fear. From the cold. The kind that settles in the bones and refuses to leave. He stood at the edge of the cliff. Below, the mist swirled like a living thing. It hid the road. It hid the enemy. It hid the truth. He was a man of protocol. A man of...
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