The Faded Portrait

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2026-08-23 05:28:29 -

The order sheet lay on the wet stone of the pass, its edges curling into the mud like a dried leaf. You read it three times, the ink blurring where the rain had pooled on the paper, the words *Infiltration* and *Depot* standing out in bold, bureaucratic black. Your hands, usually steady enough to strip a rifle in the dark, shook with a fine, persistent palsy that you had hidden for months under...

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