The Wistful Cipher
The rain tasted of iron. I held the bread. It was dry. Hard. Like a skull. I broke it. Crumbs fell into the mud. The mud was black. It swallowed the white. I am Sergeant Elias Thorne. I am alone. The forest is dense. The pines are tall. They watch me. They do not blink. I am tired. My boots are heavy. The water soaks through. Cold bites my toes. I have a mission. I have a name. Julian Vane....
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