The Pale Altar

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2026-08-18 19:04:26 -

The Pale Altar

The hum is in the walls. You know this. You have always known it. It is not a sound but a pressure. A low, industrial thrum that vibrates in the teeth. In the marrow. You sit in your cubicle. The carpet is beige. The light is fluorescent. It is Tuesday. Or perhaps it is Thursday. Time is a fluid here. It pools in the corners of the room. You are an auditor. That is your title. Your function....

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