The Faded Road

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2026-08-18 23:37:19 -

The Faded Road

The iron gates groaned. A low, metallic moan that traveled up the cobblestones and into the soles of Elias Thorne’s boots. He stood before the Ministry of Corrective Justice. The building was black stone. It smelled of wet ash and old blood. Elias adjusted his collar. The fabric was rough. It scratched his neck. He did not flinch. Pain was a familiar language. He had spoken it for twenty...

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