The Pale Path
The gate was not a door, but a seam in the air, stitched shut by a silence so heavy it pressed against the eardrums. Captain Elias Thorne stood before it, his uniform a dull grey that had long since lost its crispness, absorbing the damp, the dust, and the strange, metallic taste of the void. Behind him, the world he had sworn to protect was gone, dissolved into a mist that smelled of wet ash...
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