The Pale Bonsai
"You missed it again, Corporal." The voice came from the high, glass-walled office at the top of the municipal building, a voice that felt less like sound and more like a cold pressure against my eardrums, a weight that settled into the marrow of my bones with a terrifying, mechanical precision. I did not look up. I was looking at the bonsai on the desk, a pale, twisted thing of white pine that...
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