The Distant Threshold

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2026-08-20 10:24:46 -

The banquet hall of the Ministry of Internal Stability did not smell of food, but of ozone and old paper, a sterile perfume that clung to the back of the throat like a bad taste. It was the eve of the Commissioning, the annual ritual where the Senior Inspectors were renewed in their oaths and the junior officers were reminded, with surgical precision, of their place in the hierarchy. The long...

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