The Pale Protocol

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2026-08-20 12:57:04 -

The Pale Protocol

The fog did not lift in the town of Oakhaven; it settled, thick and gray as wet wool, pressing against the windowpanes of the mill houses until the glass wept. Margaret Holloway stood before the mirror in her dressing room, the cold air biting at her bare shoulders, watching the reflection that was slowly losing its cohesion. She was thirty-two, though the gray hair at her temples suggested a...

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