The Wistful Cipher

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2026-08-21 14:21:20 -

You wake to the sound of rain lashing against the stone, a rhythmic, relentless drumming that has become the only clock in your life. The air in the cell is thick, tasting of damp moss and old iron, a flavor that coats the back of your throat with a persistent, metallic dread. You are a Sergeant, or you were. The title feels like a coat that no longer fits, heavy and ill-fitting, draped over a...

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