The Pale Protocol
The ink dries on the parchment with a sound like a sigh, and you realize that the act of writing is no longer an act of recording but an act of erasure, for every word you commit to the page is a small death of the thought that once lived freely in the chaotic, unstructured expanse of your memory, and you find yourself sitting in the dim, candlelit study of the manor house that you have...
0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews