The Golden Mirror
The fluorescent lights in the Ministry of Internal Records hummed at a frequency that seemed to vibrate directly against Elias Thorne’s molars. He sat across from Director Halloway, his hands flat on the glass table, watching the faint, pulsing blue residue on his knuckles. The Ink was a biometric marker, a telltale sign of high-stress physiological response that the system used to flag...
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