The Pale Tale
The transfer request was denied, Major Halloway said, not looking up from the manila folder he was shuffling with a ruler. The ruler tapped the table, a dry, rhythmic sound that cut through the damp silence of the intake tent, where the smell of wet wool and stale coffee hung heavy in the air. Elias Thorne stood at attention, his boots squelching slightly in the mud that had tracked in from the...
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