The Faded Dust
The iron shrank in the dark. Sergeant Elias Thorne struck again. The blade hummed. A low, resonant thrum that vibrated in his teeth. The creature before him was not flesh. It was a mirror. A shattered, jagged shard of polished silver suspended in the smog. It did not bleed. It reflected. It showed him a version of himself that did not flinch. It showed him a man who was not tired. Thorne kicked...
0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 2 Views 0 Anteprima