The Distant Affair
The rain did not fall so much as it hovered, a fine, gray mist that clung to the glass of the server room windows. It was a Tuesday, which meant the data was still being cleaned. Elias Thorne sat at his desk, the hum of the cooling fans a low, constant drone that vibrated in his teeth. He was a senior architect of algorithms, a man who built the invisible scaffolding on which the city’s...
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