The Faded Shield

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2026-08-23 11:35:08 -

The Faded Shield

The wind tore at the zipper of your jacket as you scraped the ice from the windshield, the plastic scraper shrieking against the glass with a sound that felt like a nail dragged across a chalkboard. You were Elias Thorne, forty-two, and your hands were numb, the joints swollen with the kind of arthritis that usually plagued men twice your age, a physical toll for twenty years of standing watch...

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