The Faded Root
The brass telescope in the window of the General’s office had lost its polish, the verdigris eating into the lenses like a slow, green fire that consumed the sharpness of the world outside, leaving only a hazy, indistinct smear of reality that Thomas Ashworth watched with the dull, persistent ache of a man who had forgotten how to see clearly, standing in the shadows of the opulent, dust-choked...
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