The Wistful Saga
The rain against the windowpane of the study was a rhythmic, relentless tapping, a metronome counting out the seconds of a life that felt increasingly hollow. Marcus stood by the bookshelf, his fingers trailing along the spines of leather-bound volumes, feeling the dust settle on his knuckles. He was a man built for violence, a former combat engineer whose hands had once dismantled improvised...
0 Commentarii 0 Distribuiri 1 Views 0 previzualizare