The Distant Legend
The mud of the Somme did not merely cover the earth in the autumn of 1918; it consumed it, a thick, viscous grave that swallowed the boots of the living and the bones of the dead with equal indifference. Professor Elias Thorne stood at the edge of a crater, his knees sinking into the slurry, clutching a map that was more wet pulp than paper, its ink running in black rivers that obscured the...
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