The Pale Banner
The fluorescent lights of the HR conference room hummed at a frequency that seemed to vibrate directly inside Elias’s molars. It was a cold, sterile hum, the kind that stripped away the warmth of thought, leaving only the raw, jagged edge of fact. Elias sat at the head of the table, his hands resting flat on the polished mahogany surface. He was holding a small, ceramic plate. It was white,...
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