The Pale Protocol

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2026-08-20 15:03:18 -

The Pale Protocol

The ink is wet. It always is when I write these down, as if the act of remembering requires a fresh bleed of time. I am sitting in the high office of the Ministry of Internal Affairs, the room that smells of old varnish and the faint, metallic tang of the radiator. It is a Tuesday, or perhaps a Wednesday; the days here have lost their distinct edges, blurring into a single, long duration of...

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