The Pale Echo

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2026-08-20 10:37:02 -

The Pale Echo

The rain did not fall; it hung in the air, a suspended grey curtain that smelled of wet asphalt and old iron. I stood on the corner of Ninth and Main, the mud of the street soaking through my boots, my hand resting on the cold steel of my service pistol. The city of Oakhaven was not what it had been when I first pinned the badge to my chest, back when the streets swept themselves clean by...

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