The Pale Protocol

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2026-08-20 16:46:28 -

The Pale Protocol

The table was long enough for twelve, though only six of us were present. The candelabra held three flames, their wax pooling like frozen tears on the brass. We were celebrating nothing. We were enduring something. The air smelled of roasted duck and the metallic tang of old blood, a scent that had permeated the walls of the estate over the last ten years. I sat at the head, or what passed for...

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