The Faded Shield

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2026-08-24 20:43:55 -

The Faded Shield

The air in the memory archive tastes of ozone and old paper, a dry, metallic bite that coats the back of the throat. I am Vernon Waggoner, twelve years old, and I hold the rusted iron shield my father left behind before the fever took him, its surface pitted and cold as the Martian winter outside the habitat’s thick glass. The village elders, a council of shifts who manage our scarce resources...

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