The Golden Echoes
The mud was cold and thick as tar, sucking at the boots of Captain Elias Thorne as he dragged his body forward through the churned earth of the trench, the air around him tasting of iron and wet rot. He was not thinking of glory or strategy or the orders that had sent him here; he was thinking only of the weight of the rifle slung over his shoulder and the terrible, heavy silence that had...
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