The Pale Banner
The mud in the valley was not just dirt. It was a living thing, slick and cold, swallowing our boots with a slow, hungry gurgle. Rain hammered the helmets of the squad, a relentless drumming that drowned out the distant thud of artillery. We were pinned behind a shattered concrete barrier, the remains of a municipal wall in a district of the city that had once been called Greenfield, though...
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