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  • The Bull's Shadow
    ACT I: THE AWAKENING The bullet hit Bull O'Brien at 2:14 AM on a rainy Thursday in October, 1947. He was standing in the alley behind the Palm Club on Sunset Boulevard, counting a stack of cash that belonged to a man named Vincent "The Snake" Moretti. The bullet came from Vincent's coat pocket, fired when Bull refused to pay protection money to a rival syndicate. Bull went down hard. The last...
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  • The Mirror of Perfect Form
    Sebastian Vane stood before the mirror and held the pose. His left leg was extended behind him, balanced on the ball of his foot, his arms raised and crossed at the wrists above his head, his chin tilted upward at exactly the angle Lord Ashworth had taught him: seventeen degrees, no more, no less. He had been holding this position for forty-three minutes. The morning light through the...
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  • The Signal Broker
    The Signal Broker Act I — The Spark The rain in New Shanghai had a taste to it—something like copper and burnt plastic, like licking a battery wrapped in cigarette ash. Jack Morrow had learned to identify the severity of the acid content by taste alone. Tonight's was medium-heavy, the kind that required a weather mask but wouldn't dissolve the soles of your shoes if you were careful. Jack...
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  • The Iron Sovereign
    Marcus stood at the apex of the Spire, the obsidian heart of New York's new order. Below him, the city was a grid of perfect, terrifying efficiency. There were no traffic jams, no protests, and no unplanned laughter. There was only the Core. As the High Archon of the Core, Marcus had made the only decision that mattered. When the Void Signal had arrived, warning of the coming erasure, the world...
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  • The Gilded Elixir
    London, 1888. The fog clung to the cobblestones like a shroud, and in the gaslit corridors of Blackwood Manor, Lord Edmund Ashworth sat before his mirror and traced the line of his own aging face. Sixty years old, and his skin already bore the creases of a man twice his age. The physicians called it a constitutional weakness. Edmund knew the truth: he was born into the wrong century, into a...
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  • The Patient from Below
    ACT I Dr. Henry Blackwood's clinic was on Harley Street, in a building that had been a townhouse before someone with money and no taste turned it into a medical practice. The waiting room smelled of carbolic acid and lavender—two smells that had been mixed together by someone who thought they complemented each other but in fact created an odor that was worse than either alone. Blackwood sat in...
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  • THE SILVER VEIL
    Bampton, Yorkshire, 1888 The mist clung to the moors like a shroud, and in the narrow streets of Bampton, where the cobbles gleamed wet under gaslight and the wind carried the salt-tang of the North Sea, a woman arrived who would change everything. Her name was Lin Meiling, though she told people to call her Mary Lin. She came with two trunks and a small iron box of tools, renting the ground...
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  • The Logic of the Noose
    Los Angeles in 1947 was a city of neon lies and rain-slicked asphalt. Leo Cassian sat in his office, the ceiling fan chopping the cigarette smoke into grey ribbons. Leo was a private eye with a hole where his heart should be. A car wreck three years ago had left him with a traumatic brain injury that did a very specific job: it deleted his fear. He didn't mind. Fear is expensive; it makes you...
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  • The Ledger of Void
    (V-03: Noir Cynicism) The rain in New York didn't wash anything away; it just smeared the grime into a more permanent shade of grey. Marcus sat in his office on the 42nd floor, the city below looking like a circuit board designed by a sadist. He didn't deal in stocks or bonds—at least, not the kind you could find on Wall Street. Marcus dealt in "Existence Credits." Five years ago, a leak from a...
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  • THE WOMAN IN THE CORNER
    The data was supposed to be random. That was the whole point of Maya Torres's job at DataStream Analytics: take the raw numbers from government contracts, clean them, organize them, and make sure they looked random enough to pass a security audit. She was good at it. She had been good at it for six years, ever since she had dropped out of community college because her grandmother got sick and...
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  • The Last Stand of the Fallen
    The sky of Planet Xylos was a bruised purple, torn apart by the jagged remnants of orbital rings. Below, the landscape was a graveyard of titanium and carbon-fiber, where the skeletal remains of cities lay half-buried in iridescent sand. Captain Valerius stood atop the highest peak of the Obsidian Range, his cloak snapping in the radioactive wind. He was the last of the Vanguard, the remnants...
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  • The Patient from Below
    ACT I Dr. Henry Blackwood's clinic was on Harley Street, in a building that had been a townhouse before someone with money and no taste turned it into a medical practice. The waiting room smelled of carbolic acid and lavender—two smells that had been mixed together by someone who thought they complemented each other but in fact created an odor that was worse than either alone. Blackwood sat in...
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