The Pale Dance
You wake in the white room. The air is cold. It bites your lungs. You are standing. Your uniform is crisp. The fabric feels like ice. You are not cold. You are awake. The window is a square of black glass. It reflects your face. The face is pale. The eyes are wide. You do not blink. A door opens. It is steel. It does not creak. It slides. A man walks in. He wears a suit. The suit is dark. He is...
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