The Pale Fracture
The ink on the ledger was not black. It was a viscous, arterial red that pooled in the grooves of the paper, forming the hollow, staring eyes of Elias Thorne’s dead father. Elias did not look up. He kept his pen moving, scratching the allocation of coal for Sector Four, his hand trembling not from cold, but from the sudden, visceral knowledge that the system was watching him through his own...
0 Commentarii 0 Distribuiri 1 Views 0 previzualizare