The Distant Nightmare
The iron gate of the Blackwood Foundry did not scream when it was breached; it groaned, a low, tectonic shudder that vibrated up through the soles of Sergeant Elias Thorne’s boots and into the marrow of his knees, a sound that felt less like metal yielding and more like a bone snapping in the dark. The night air was thick with the acrid, copper-tasting smoke of burning pine and the heavy,...
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