The Pale Fracture
The rain lashed the corrugated tin roof of the depot, a relentless drumming that filled the silence between their words. Elias stood by the window, his back to the room, watching the grey sludge of the road churn in the gutters. He wore the grey coat of the Peacekeeper Corps, the fabric stiff with old rain and newer sweat. On his wrist, the brass cufflink caught the dim light of the lantern. It...
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