The Wistful Mirror
Grigori Zaytsev stood before the glass, his iron gauntlet raised, demanding the reflection yield its secrets. The mirror was cracked, a spiderweb of fractures radiating from the center where the obsidian had met the stone. He wanted to see the boy he had been, the one who had not yet learned that time was a thief that took without asking. The wind howled through the broken window of the...
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