The Golden Oath
The alarm did not ring; it screamed, a digital shriek that tore through the sterile silence of the command center, a sound designed not to wake us but to break us. I was standing by the window, watching the rain strip the leaves from the oaks below, when the red light pulsed across the glass, painting my face in the hue of arterial blood. It was 0400 hours, a time when the mind is thin and the...
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