The Masquerade of the Flat
The invitation was a slip of obsidian glass that whispered the guest's name in a voice like crushed velvet. "The Final Gala," it read. "Dress for the End." Leo was the most sought-after party planner in New York, primarily because he knew how to make the apocalypse look like a fashion statement. The elite of the city—the tech-barons, the gene-sculptors, the orbital-lords—had all accepted the...
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