The Faded Road
The iron gates of the Ministry of Internal Affairs stood tall against the gray sky, their blackened spikes resembling the quills of a wounded bird. Behind them, the building loomed, a monolith of soot-stained brick and heavy glass, exuding a cold, industrial silence that felt less like order and more like a suffocating embrace. Elias Thorne stood on the cobblestones, his boots caked with the...
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