The Faded Frontier
The air in the Halloway manor tastes of ozone and the metallic tang of old blood, a flavor that coats the back of your throat as you step across the threshold, the floorboards groaning under the weight of your boots and the heavy, deliberate intent in your stride. You are Sergeant Elias Thorne, and you are thirty years old, a man who has spent the last six years carrying the ghost of his...
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