The Wistful Witness

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2026-08-22 15:10:18 -

The mud in the trench did not freeze; it simply ceased to care. It was a thick, black slurry that sucked at Aldric’s boots with a wet, persistent hunger. He sat with his back against the packed earth, a half-eaten biscuit in his hand. The crumb was dry, tasting of ash and old flour. He chewed slowly, the mechanical motion a small anchor in the swirling dark. Around him, the silence was heavy,...

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