The Pale Verdict
The rain fell in sheets, cold and relentless, blurring the line between the mud and the sky. Thomas stood at the edge of the treeline. His armor was heavy. It weighed him down. Each plate of steel was a memory. Each dent was a wound that had not healed. He adjusted the strap across his chest. The leather bit into his skin. He did not care. Pain was a companion. Pain was familiar. He walked. The...
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