The Faded Shield
The morning light fell through the high, dusty windows of the municipal kitchen, pooling in long, amber slabs on the tile floor where the steam from the industrial ovens had begun to dissipate into the cool autumn air. Elias Thorne stood at the head of the stainless steel counter, his hands resting on the cold metal, watching the slow, rhythmic pulse of the ventilation fans overhead that seemed...
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