The Wistful Witness
The alarm did not ring. It screamed. A jagged, red shriek that tore through the sterile silence of the server room, a sound that felt less like a machine failing and more like a bone snapping. You stood frozen in the blue glow of the monitors, your fingers hovering over the keyboard, trembling not from fear but from a profound, physical exhaustion. The air conditioning hummed a low, constant...
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