The Distant Wound
The air in the Hall of Calibration was thick with the scent of ozone and burnt sugar, a cloying sweetness that masked the metallic tang of fear. Elias Thorne stood before the Great Pantry, his fingers trembling not from cold, but from the sheer, crushing weight of the data scrolling across the holo-screens above him. He was the Chief Auditor of Nutrient Allocation, a title that sounded...
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