The Faded Dust

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2026-08-18 12:13:54 -

The Faded Dust

The iron gate of St. Jude’s Correctional Facility did not creak, nor did it groan under the weight of the wind that whipped off the grey, featureless moor; it simply existed, a vertical slab of rusted metal that stood as a silent, immovable argument against the concept of freedom, and within its shadow, Elias Thorne sat on a bench of cold stone, his hands resting in his lap, fingers interlaced...

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