The Faded Shield
The ink was wrong, it was wrong, it was wrong, and you knew it before your eyes could fully resolve the smear on the parchment, for the black line had not merely bled but had coalesced, twisting into the unmistakable geometry of a nose, a jaw, a pair of hollowed eyes that stared back at you with a familiarity that made your stomach turn over in its tracks. You are Elias Thorne, and you are...
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