The Glass Cage Experiment
The rain in Sector 4 tasted like copper and old batteries. I, Arthur, spent my days hauling rusted conduits through the sludge of the Lower Rim, my lungs whistling with every breath. Life was a series of grey hours, punctuated by the occasional scream of a foreman or the rhythmic thrum of the Atmospheric Processors. We were told we were the 'Survivors'—the last remnants of a fallen empire,...
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