The Heavy Toll of a Quiet Life Spent Guarding Ghosts in a World of Rusted Iron
CHAPTER 1: THE FRICTION OF EXPOSURE The stainless-steel edge of the gyro cart smelled of scorched grease and cheap oregano. It was a solid, grounding weight beneath Thomas’s left palm—until the lean one stepped into his radius, smelling of stale vape smoke and cheap adrenaline. “Old man doesn’t hear so well,” the lean one said….