The Pale Bonsai
The rain did not fall so much as it materialized, a sudden and violent manifestation of the sky’s grief, washing the soot and the old blood from the cobblestones of the city’s lower district. Sergeant Elias Thorne stood in the eye of a storm that felt less like weather and more like a physical assault, his uniform soaked through to the skin, the fabric clinging to his ribs like a second,...
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