The Pale Fracture
The banquet hall in the settlement of Oakhaven did not smell of roast beef or wine, but of ozone and the metallic tang of processed air, a scent that permeated the synthetic velvet drapes and clung to the skin like a second, invisible coat. It was the annual Feast of Compliance, a ritual where the populace gathered to witness the calibration of the Central Ledger, the digital architecture that...
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