The Distant Wound

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2026-08-24 03:26:08 -

The Distant Wound

The iron key hung cold in Sergeant Elias Thorne’s palm, its teeth worn smooth by twelve years of turning locks that were never meant to fail. He stood in the corridor of the Order’s barracks, the metal slick with sweat, as the shriek of the alarm cut through the stone walls like a blade through wet cloth. The sound was not merely loud; it was a physical weight, pressing against his eardrums,...

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