The Wistful Saga
The ink was wet, still trembling on the parchment of his mind, when Major Silas Vane woke to the sound of rain drumming against the reinforced glass of the command center. He was not in his bed. He was not in the quiet, dust-mote-filled sanctuary of his suburban home where his wife, Elara, had long since drifted into a deep, dreamless sleep. He was here, in the sterile white hum of the Federal...
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