The Wistful Campus
The road into the valley was not merely a path of crushed stone and mud, but a wound that had never fully healed, stretching out under a sky the color of a bruise that would not fade. Elias Thorne walked it with the heavy, rhythmic gait of a man who had spent his life carrying the weight of others’ sins on his back, his boots sinking into the soft earth with a sound like a sigh. He was a...
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