The Pale Banner
The banner hung in the attic, not as a relic, but as a waiting room. It was pale, a color that had faded so far from its original crimson that it now resembled the skin of a man who had forgotten how to bleed. Elias stood before it. The wood floor creaked under his boots, a sound like a bone snapping in the dark. He was a warrior, or had been, before the system had taken his sword and handed...
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