The Faded Masquerade
The boots you wear are held together by wire and stubbornness, the leather so worn through at the toes that the grey mud of the highlands seeps in with every step, cold and wet against your skin, a constant, biting reminder of the debt that sits heavier on your chest than the pack on your back. You are Elias Thorne, forty-two years old, a border patrol officer in a role that has slowly eroded...
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