The Distant Journey
The light was dying fast, turning the mess hall into a box of amber and shadow, and Sergeant Elias Thorne stood by the table where the roast had gone cold, listening to the men laugh about the capture. "Thorne! You’re standing there like a man at a funeral. Drink." Major Vance’s voice cut through the noise, sharp and commanding, and the room went quiet for a split second before the laughter...
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