The Pale Protocol
The rain hammered against the single, grime-streaked window of the fourth-floor office, a relentless drumming that did nothing to silence the cold. Elias Thorne sat hunched over his drafting table, the blueprints of the Pale Protocol spread out before him like a map to a country he no longer knew. He needed this project to succeed; it was the only bridge between his current invisibility and the...
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