The Pale Protocol
"Get out, Thorne. Before I put a bullet in your ear for the trouble you’ve caused." Sergeant Elias Thorne did not move, though the mud of the Somme trench was sucking at his boots with a wet, rhythmic pull that felt like a living thing trying to drag him down into the earth. It was the fourth of November, 1916, and the air smelled of cordite, rot, and the metallic tang of old blood that had...
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