The Golden Farce
The rain did not fall so much as it hung, a gray curtain of static that blurred the edge of the world where the asphalt ended and the wilderness began. Captain Elias Thorne sat in the driver’s seat of his unmarked sedan, the engine ticking as it cooled, and watched the fog roll in from the valley floor. He was a man built of straight lines and hard angles, his uniform pressed to a sharpness...
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