The Pale Meridian
The brass badge on my chest was cold, a solid disc of metal that felt heavier than the rest of my uniform combined, and it sat against my sternum like a second heart, ticking with a rhythm that did not match my own breathing. I stood in the center of the atrium, surrounded by the low hum of the ventilation systems, and I watched the dust motes dance in the shafts of pale light that cut through...
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