The Distant Ghost
The air in the Sub-Level 4 archive tasted of ozone and old dust, a metallic tang that coated the back of my throat before I even took my first step inside. I adjusted the haptic feedback collar, the device humming against my neck like a second pulse, and looked up at the towering shelves of crystalline data cores that stretched into the gloom above. My father had sent me here. Not to retrieve,...
0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews