The Pale Protocol

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2026-08-19 19:59:15 -

The Pale Protocol

The rain hit the tin roof like gravel. I was counting the drops. One. Two. Three. Four. The rhythm was broken. A crack in the eave. Water poured in. Not rain. Something else. Cold. Thick. It smelled of iron and old earth. I looked up. The ceiling was dark. A hole. Blackness above. I reached for my lantern. The flame sputtered. Died. Darkness swallowed the room. I stood still. My hands shook....

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