The Faded Shield
The alarm does not ring. It screams, a digital shriek that tears through the sterile silence of the Command Center, shattering the glassy calm of the monitors. You are standing at the head of the long, curved desk, your hand resting on the cold steel of your sidearm, not because you are reaching for it, but because the weight of it is the only anchor holding you to the floor as the world tilts....
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