The Pale Protocol
The ink is wet. It has always been wet in this place. You hold the seal in your left hand. It is cold iron, heavy with a weight that does not belong to metal. The wax is pale, the color of old bone, and it has not hardened. It waits for your thumb. You press it down. The mark remains. You lift your hand. The wax remains. It does not break. It does not crumble. It simply is. This is the...
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