The Wistful Ashes

added blog Literature

2026-08-21 22:49:59 -

The Wistful Ashes

The gate opened. Steel groaned. Marek stepped out. The city rose. Grey. Cold. It breathed. He was a Sergeant. Of the Order. His uniform was black. Clean. His badge was silver. Cold. He held his rifle. Tight. The air tasted of ozone. And ash. This was Sector Four. The Old District. Concrete towers. Bleeding rain. He walked. Fast. His boots clicked. On wet stone. The crowd watched. Eyes wide....

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