The Golden Oath
The rain hits the asphalt in sheets. You watch it from the doorway of the barracks. It is cold. The air tastes of iron and wet stone. You are leaving. This is the end. "Ready, Elias?" The voice is rough. It belongs to Sergeant Miller. He stands behind you. His face is a map of scars. He does not look at the rain. He looks at your hands. "Yes, Sergeant." You do not turn. You cannot. Your legs...
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