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183 المنشورات
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0 الصور
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Male
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20/03/1997
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التحديثات الأخيرة
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The Last Play of Vincent CrossThe boardroom on the forty-seventh floor of the Cross Technologies building had windows that looked out over the full sweep of Los Angeles, from the mountains to the sea, and on the morning of September 14, 2009, those windows framed a city that was going about its business with no idea that the man sitting at the head of the table was about to destroy it. Vincent Cross had called the meeting...0 التعليقات 0 المشاركات 0 مشاهدة 0 معاينةالرجاء تسجيل الدخول , للأعجاب والمشاركة والتعليق على هذا!
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The First LightI. They begin with clay. This is the first truth, the one that connects the man kneeling on the riverbank in Mesopotamia in the year five thousand before the birth of a religion that has not yet been born to the woman standing on a platform in the year three thousand after it, looking up at a nebula that is the direct descendant of a cloud of gas and dust that was, in some sense, the same...0 التعليقات 0 المشاركات 0 مشاهدة 0 معاينة
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"Paper Cups and Coffee Stains""Paper Cups and Coffee Stains The heater in Sarah Mitchell's bookstore had been making a noise for three weeks. It was a sound like a cat being strangled — a high whine that started around ten in the morning and didn't stop until the heater turned off at eight at night. Sometimes it went on longer. Sometimes it went on all night. Sarah had stopped trying to fix it because every time she called...0 التعليقات 0 المشاركات 1 مشاهدة 0 معاينة
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The Law of the Monolith(New York Urban) The boardroom of the Sterling-Vane Corporation was a vacuum of empathy, a glass-walled cage overlooking the smog-choked skyline of Manhattan. CEO Marcus Vane was a man who viewed the world as a series of acquisitions. To him, the "Old World" was merely a source of raw materials to be refined into profit. His latest obsession was the Monolith, a prehistoric obsidian pillar...0 التعليقات 0 المشاركات 0 مشاهدة 0 معاينة
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The ferry came at seven in the morning and five in the evening. That was the rhythm of Cuyahoga Island. Two crossings a day, every day, rain or shine or the kind of fog that turned the world grey and the men on board into ghosts.I'd been coming back and forth for two months. Seven in the morning, five in the evening. Seven in the morning, five in the evening. The schedule was the same as my medication times, same as my group therapy hours, same as the shape of my days—repeating, predictable, and going absolutely nowhere. Lakeview Recovery sat on the western end of the island like a broken tooth, all brick and broken...0 التعليقات 0 المشاركات 3 مشاهدة 0 معاينة
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Frequencies of SilenceThe moral universe, like the physical universe, is subject to the Doppler effect. Two observers moving at different speeds—two people living in different moral reference frames—will perceive the same event at different frequencies. What sounds like a scream to one observer sounds like a whisper to another. What feels like an eternity to one feels like an instant to another. And the distance...0 التعليقات 0 المشاركات 3 مشاهدة 0 معاينة
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The Empire of MitesMy name is Amir. I am a nanotechnician in the service of the Glass Dome. My job is simple: maintain the structural integrity of the dome that separates us from the outside world. The outside world is vast and dangerous. The inside world is small and safe. Or so they tell us. I have maintained this dome for twenty-three of my years. In Micro Time, that is nearly a third of a lifetime. In Macro...0 التعليقات 0 المشاركات 4 مشاهدة 0 معاينة
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The Poison in the AlleyACT ONE: THE MARK Rita knew the difference between an onion and a tear. Onions made your eyes water and your throat itch. Tears came from somewhere deeper, somewhere you couldn't point to even if someone held a knife to your ribs and asked you to. She'd been crying for five years. Not openly—nobody cried openly in Big Daddy Morrelli's house—but the kind of crying that happened inside your skull...0 التعليقات 0 المشاركات 3 مشاهدة 0 معاينة
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The Infinite GlitchThe world was a series of flickering corridors, a kaleidoscope of broken textures and floating polygons. This was the "Shatter-Zone," the remains of a reality that had been rebooted so many times it had lost its original shape. I am the Debugger. My job is to find the anomalies, the "glitches" that threaten the stability of the current version, and prune them. I move through the world as a...0 التعليقات 0 المشاركات 2 مشاهدة 0 معاينة
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THE WEIGHT OF NOTHING### Act I: The Spark Ethan Cross stood in the supermarket aisle for twelve minutes before making a decision. The decision was about cereal. There were fourteen brands on the shelf, from store-brand corn flakes at three dollars a box to artisanal granola at nine dollars, and Ethan was trying to choose one. Not because he was hungry—hunger was not the issue. The issue was that each choice carried...0 التعليقات 0 المشاركات 5 مشاهدة 0 معاينة
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ACT IThe Beauregard plantation looked like a dying animal: magnificent once, now skeletal, its ribs of white columns protruding through peeling paint like bone through rotting flesh. Elias Thorne stood at the gate and felt something he hadn't felt since Boston, something that was almost sympathy. He had come south as a Union intelligence officer, armed with maps and coded messages and a conviction...0 التعليقات 0 المشاركات 10 مشاهدة 0 معاينة
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The Block and the Leviathan## Act I The ferry terminal had been abandoned since 2009, when the city decided that Staten Island commuters were better served by bridges than by boats. David Chen found it on a rainy Thursday in March 2024, because he had been walking for two hours and the terminal was the only interesting thing he could find. The building was a skeleton of its former self: broken windows, peeling paint, a...0 التعليقات 0 المشاركات 9 مشاهدة 0 معاينة
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