The Pale Shadows
The glass was cold, a slab of blue ice stretching across the center of the table, reflecting the harsh, sterile fluorescence of the room. "Do you understand what you are proposing, Elias?" The voice was not loud. It did not need to be. It carried the weight of a closing door, of a file being sealed, of a life being categorized and archived. I looked up from my hands, which were resting on the...
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