The Pale Bridge
The mud was thick. It sucked at your boots with a wet, heavy mouth. You could taste the iron in the air. It tasted like old blood. Like rust. You held your rifle. Your hands shook. Not from cold. The cold was inside you. It was a deep, hollow cold that had settled in your marrow years ago. You were a soldier. You were also a brother. And right now, you were alone. The city was grey. It was a...
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