The Pale Fracture
The silence in the Hall of High Command was not an absence of sound but a heavy, viscous substance, a thickening of the air that pressed against the eardrums with the physical weight of a deep ocean trench. Commander Elias Thorne stood before the obsidian monolith that served as the central processing unit for the city-state of Aethelgard, his hands resting on the cool, polished surface of his...
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