The Pale Protocol
The ink had dried on the third page of my journal when the tremor started, a fine, shivering vibration that traveled up from my fingertips and settled, cold and heavy, in the hollow of my chest. I looked at the entry I had just written, a meticulous record of the atmospheric pressure in the town of Oakhaven, and realized with a sudden, sickening clarity that the numbers I had recorded were not...
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