The Pale Verdict
The road is broken. It has always been broken. You know this because you have walked it before, though the memory is a scar that will not heal. You are a soldier. Or perhaps a warden. The titles do not matter here. The uniform is the only thing that fits. It is heavy. It is soaked in rain that falls upward, drifting from the black earth to the grey sky. You hold the key. It is cold. It is...
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