The Faded Ruin
The ink on your badge has begun to run, a brown smear that looks less like a seal of authority and more like a bruise spreading across the porcelain surface of your chest. You press your thumb against it, feeling the grit of the paper, the roughness that has defined your life in the gray district of Oakhaven for the last decade. Here, the walls weep condensation that tastes of rust and old...
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