The Faded Dust

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2026-08-23 20:38:37 -

The Faded Dust

The air in the war room of the Ironclad Ministry tasted of ozone and stale sweat. Sergeant Elias Thorne stood before the mahogany desk, his uniform stiff with the damp of the November morning, his knuckles white as he gripped the edge of the table. Across from him, Director Vane adjusted his spectacles, the lenses clouding his eyes into pale, unblinking discs. Between them sat the Ledger of...

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