The Pale Fracture
The air in the Sector 4 Nutrition Allocation Center did not smell of food, but of sterile plastic and the faint, metallic tang of recycled oxygen, a scent that had long since seeped into the pores of Margaret Holloway’s skin and become indistinguishable from her own biology, a constant, low-level hum of synthetic survival that vibrated in the teeth and settled deep in the chest like a stone....
0 Comments 0 Shares 37 Views 0 Reviews