The Wistful Atlas
You stand at the edge of the frozen reservoir, the iron gate of the dam groaning behind you like a dying beast, and the cold bites into the marrow of your bones with a precision that feels surgical, almost kind. It is the winter of the Great Expansion, a time when the iron veins of the world were being laid bare to feed the hungry engines of progress, and you, Sergeant Elias Thorne, are here...
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