The Golden Scar
The air in the Ministry of Nutritional Compliance tasted of ozone and boiled starch. It was a dry, metallic flavor that coated the tongue, a constant reminder of the synthesis processes that kept the capital alive. Elias Vance sat in his office, a box of gray walls and humming server racks. He was the Senior Archivist. His job was simple. He verified the purity of the nutrient slurry. He...
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