The Wistful Saga
The rain did not fall so much as it pressed against the single, reinforced pane of glass in the wall of the subterranean server room, a persistent, grey smear that distorted the view of the parking lot above into a watercolor of rusted sedans and flickering streetlights. Elara Vance sat cross-legged on the cold concrete floor, her back against the humming spine of the mainframe, her fingers...
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