The Wistful Cipher
The rain hammered against the leaded glass of the watchtower, a rhythmic, relentless drumming that matched the pounding in your temples. You were not supposed to be here. The order had been clear, delivered in the cold, clipped tones of Captain Hale: hold the perimeter, watch the gate, do not engage unless the seal is broken. But the seal was not broken. The stone door stood shut, heavy with...
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