The Wistful Mirror
The ironworks stood like a broken jaw against the grey sky of 1893, its rusted gates exhaling a breath of coal dust and ozone. I am Elias Thorne, forty-two, a border patrol officer whose name has been scrubbed from the roster by a tribunal that never met me. I wanted my name back. I wanted the truth. The opposing force was not a man, but the Mirror, a localized hallucination trapped in the...
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