The Distant Legend

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2026-08-19 17:02:03 -

The air in the interrogation room tasted of rust and stale tobacco. It was a thick, industrial flavor that coated the back of your throat, a physical weight that matched the heavy, iron-banded door behind you. You sat across from me, your uniform crisp but ill-fitting, the buttons straining against a chest that heaved with a rhythm too fast for a man who claimed to be calm. We were in 1923, in...

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