The Bureau of Redundant Souls

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2026-06-03 10:14:16 -

(Eastern European Absurd Style) In the city of Oskov, the rain did not fall; it drifted in a permanent, charcoal-colored mist that tasted of sulfur and old bureaucracy. The city was governed by the Ministry of Order, a sprawling complex of concrete monoliths where the primary industry was the production of forms to request other forms. In Oskov, a man was not defined by his actions, his...

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