The Golden Master
The room hummed. It was a low, electric thrum, the sound of a thousand servers breathing in unison, a collective exhalation of data. Margaret stood in the center of the open floor, her heels clicking against the cold tile. She was the Senior Architect. She was the anomaly. The others were silent. They watched. "Is it ready?" asked Julian, his voice thin against the roar of the cooling fans....
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