The Wistful Throne
"Your tenure is revoked." The words hung in the air. Cold. Dry. They smelled of ozone and old paper. Dr. Elias Thorne stood in the center of the department office. The carpet was gray. It was the color of a bruise that would not fade. He looked at the woman across the desk. Director Sarah Vane. She did not look at him. She looked at the screen. The blue light painted her face. It was a mask. A...
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