The Faded Chronicle

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2026-08-18 03:17:33 -

"Pass the salt." I did. My hand trembled. The tablecloth was damp. "More," he said. I poured. It spilled. He watched the white crystals dissolve into the broth. "You're shaking, Miller." "Bad night." "Lie." He was the Captain. Or he had been. Before the sickness. Before the walls came down. He sat in the chair by the window. The glass was fogged. Outside, the city roared. Steam. Sirens. The...

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