The Pale Fracture
The rain does not fall so much as it presses against the glass, a grey, persistent weight that blurs the skyline of the Sector into a smear of charcoal and steel. You are standing in the control room, the air thick with the scent of ozone and stale coffee, your fingers trembling slightly over the haptic interface. The city outside is silent, a vast, breathing organism of concrete and wire,...
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