The Pale Fracture
The morning light in the Hall of Calibration did not so much enter the room as it pooled upon the floor, a stagnant, yellowish liquid that seemed to swallow the shadows of the desks before they could stretch into the corners. It was a light that had forgotten the sun, a pale and sickly imitation that hummed with the low-frequency vibration of the machinery that kept the city alive. In the...
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