The Faded Frequency
"Move the wagons to the high ground, Sergeant. Now." The voice of Corporal Jarek cut through the howling wind outside the outpost’s shuttered window, sharp and flat, devoid of the deference I had expected from a man who had served under me for six years. I looked up from the map spread across the table, the ink still wet from my own markings. The rain was hammering against the glass, a...
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