The Pale Exile
The alarm at 0500 was a dull thud in the chest. Not a sound, exactly. A vibration. It rattled the teeth. It woke the bones. Thomas sat up. The mattress was hard. The air smelled of stale coffee and antiseptic. He pulled on his boots. Leather creaked. He checked his watch. Three minutes early. Always early. He dressed in the dark. Uniform gray. Name tag straight. He walked to the window. The...
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