The Wistful Skyline
"You are late again," said the man in the grey coat, his voice a flat line on a seismograph, unbothered by the tremors that shook the foundations of the room. "The calibration requires precision. If the signal degrades, the structure collapses. We do not have the bandwidth for your hesitation." I stood in the center of the circular chamber, the floor beneath me humming with a low-frequency...
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