The Pale Banner
Elias. The name hung in the air of the basement, dry and brittle, spoken by Director Halloway with the flat affect of a man reading a shipping manifest. Elias did not look up from the flag, his fingers tracing the frayed hem of the pale cotton, feeling the grit of decades of dust settle into the whorls of his palms. The room was a sealed concrete box, the air thick with the smell of mildew and...
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