The Pale Mist
The memo from Department Head Silas Vane lay on my desk, its paper thick and cream-colored, smelling faintly of the dust that perpetually hung in the air of the archive. It was a formal notice of suspension, citing "irregularities in the handling of high-value assets" and demanding my immediate presence for a final review. I read it twice, the bureaucratic language cold and precise, stripping...
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