The Faded Root

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2026-08-20 03:25:31 -

The Faded Root

The rain in Chicago did not wash the city clean; it merely made the grime slicker, turning the cobblestones of the old warehouse district into mirrors that reflected the broken neon of signs advertising things we could no longer afford to want. I walked with my head low, the weight of my service pistol a cold anchor in my holster, a physical reminder of the order I was sworn to protect even as...

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