The Ash of Progress
The ceiling fan in the office rotated with a slow, hypnotic drone, cutting through the humid air of the colony. Arthur Penhaligon sat behind his mahogany desk, the surface polished to a mirror shine. Outside the window, the town of New Providence stretched out in a grid of perfect white concrete and manicured lawns, a stark, geometric contrast to the tangled, emerald chaos of the jungle that...
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