The Faded Shield
The rain did not fall so much as it was thrown, a relentless, icy slurry that battered the reinforced glass of the observation deck where Elias Thorne stood, his reflection a ghostly smear of grey suit and tired eyes against the darkening skyline of the city, a city that had forgotten the sky for so long it no longer remembered how to look up, yet here it was, pressing its wet, heavy face...
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