The Paper Copy

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2026-06-12 06:04:45 -

The Paper Copy

The number on my new ID card was Seven. Not a name, not a title, just a number. It was printed in black ink on a card that smelled like cheap plastic, and it was the only thing I had in the apartment I had never asked for. The tribunal had been quick. Nineteen minutes, from opening statement to verdict. The three people on NeuroForge's private tribunal sat behind a glass wall that reflected my...

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