The Pale Protocol

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2026-08-17 22:08:46 -

The Pale Protocol

The coat was too big for me. It hung off my shoulders like a shroud, the wool fraying at the cuffs, the lining stained with a rust that smelled of old blood and wet earth. I had worn it for three years. Three years since the fire, since the evacuation, since the world I knew dissolved into ash and grey smoke. I was Elias Thorne, a man who no longer existed on any registry, and the coat was the...

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