PREVIEW
... ntains eastward were veiled in smoke.
Major Moreau stood at the front of a hollowed-out chapel converted into a war room.
His cane tapped against cracked stone as he moved to the table.
A map of eastern Spain was spread before them, covered in grease-pencil marks, blood-stained corners, and worn folds.
Soldiers from every faction stood present.
Anarchists, POUM, socialists, communists, even the Free Militia.
Moreau looked across them, his voice ste ...
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