The Faded Shield
The rain did not fall so much as it hung in the air, a suspended gray curtain that blurred the edges of the world outside the reinforced glass of the observation deck. Inside, the air was stale, recycled through filters that hummed with a low, persistent drone, masking the silence of the vacuum beyond. Elias Thorne sat at the center of the curved table, his hands resting on the smooth, cold...
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