The Faded Masquerade
The rain did not fall so much as it descended, a heavy, grey curtain that blurred the edges of the world and turned the cobblestones of the capital into a mirror of bruised sky. Commander Elias Thorne stood alone in the center of the Grand Atrium of the Ministry of Internal Security, a vast, cathedral-like space where the air smelled of wet wool, old stone, and the metallic tang of suppressed...
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