The Faded Frontier

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2026-08-19 16:52:24 -

The glass at the edge of the desk was not a window. It was a boundary. A thin, cold line separating the air I breathed from the world outside. I pressed my thumb against it. The cold bit. I did not pull away. The Bureau of Cartographic Integrity was a place of dust and silence. We mapped the edges of known things. We drew lines where the ink stopped. I was the only one who could see the lines...

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