The Faded Paradox
The name was shouted through the iron grille, a ragged bark that cut through the damp silence of the cell. “Thorne! Elias Thorne, you are in violation of Protocol Seven, Section Four: Containment of Spectral Residue.” The voice belonged to a junior clerk, his uniform stiff with starch, his face pale and slick with sweat as he peered through the bars. Elias did not look up from the floor where...
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