The Pale Fracture
The fluorescent lights of Sector 4 hummed at a frequency that made Elias’s teeth ache. He stood before the Tribunal, his hands trembling not from fear, but from the first cold twitches of the Fade, the age-related decay that was slowly eating his psychic link. He was forty, but he looked sixty, his skin drawn tight over cheekbones that seemed to pierce the sterile white walls of the room. "I...
0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews