The Faded Chronicle
The landslide hit the road at four in the afternoon, burying the only way out of the valley and leaving Odd Dahl, a thirty-four-year-old border guard, alone in a watchtower that smelled of wet wool and old iron. He stood by the window, watching the snow settle over the mudslide, knowing that Major Vane’s orders to seize the shipment were now impossible to carry out without first surviving the...
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