The Pale Tale

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2026-08-24 08:06:02 -

The Pale Tale

The wind was a physical thing, a fist of ice pressing against the reinforced glass of the watchtower. I held the shard of mirror in my left hand, the edge biting into my palm, the cold seeping through the skin to the bone. It was a piece of a compact, found in the abandoned pack of a smuggler who had slipped into the snow three days prior, but to me, it was the only thing in the unit that still...

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