The Faded Masquerade

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2026-08-20 14:33:55 -

The mud was black and sucking, a living thing that held his boots with a stubborn, wet grip. Elias Thorne waded through the swampy lowlands of the border, the rain hammering the back of his head in a relentless, cold rhythm. He did not look up. He did not look around. His eyes were fixed on the gray stone of the old watchtower looming ahead, half-swallowed by the fog. In his left hand, he...

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