The Distant Summer
The rain did not fall; it hung, a thick, gray veil that erased the horizon and turned the world into a suffocating void of wet stone and iron. Sergeant Elias Thorne stood in the center of the decommissioned bunker, his boots sinking into the slurry of mud and rust, the air heavy with the scent of ozone and old blood. He was not fighting an enemy that could be seen, but one that pulsed in the...
0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews