The Pale Bonsai

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2026-08-18 23:16:01 -

The Pale Bonsai

The air in the atrium of the Department of Public Order was sterile, smelling faintly of antiseptic and the dusty decay of old paper, a scent that Colonel Elias Thorne had come to associate with the slow erosion of his own dignity. He stood at the base of the marble staircase, his hands clasped behind his back, holding a small, unassuming tin box that had once been painted a cheerful,...

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