The Wistful Cipher
The rain tapped against the glass. It was a steady, rhythmic percussion. I watched it fall. My hands were steady. They had been steady for twenty years. Then they trembled. Just a fraction. A shiver in the bones. I am Colonel Elias Thorne. I served my country. I served the law. I believed in the wall between us and them. Inside, order. Outside, chaos. I believed in the line. I sat in the study...
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