The Faded Frontier
The rain fell like a curse. It hammered the slate roof of the Ministry of Internal Order, a relentless drumming that drowned out the ticking of the grandfather clock in the antechamber. You stood in the center of the room. Your uniform was soaked. The wool clung to your ribs, cold and heavy. It was a black tunic, tailored with silver thread that had once shone like starlight. Now it was dull....
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