The Wistful Campus
The brass insignia on Major Elias Thorne’s shoulder patch was already tarnished by the time the first punch landed, a dull, wet impact that echoed off the high, vaulted ceilings of the family manor, a sound that felt less like violence and more like the cracking of a structural beam in a house that had been standing too long without maintenance. He stood in the center of the grand foyer, his...
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