The Faded Shield
The iron plate on your back is not metal. It is calcified skin, a layer of hardened flesh that grows thicker only when you bleed for another, a biological armor that has sustained the garrison of Oakhaven for three generations. You are Elias, thirty-two years old, and you have three days left in the Siege of Silence. Your want is simple: survive the next seventy-two hours without breaking, so...
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