The Pale Protocol
The champagne in the crystal flute was warm, but I drank it anyway, the bubbles bursting against my tongue with a fizz that felt like electricity, a small, sharp reminder that I was alive and finally, undeniably, someone. I am Elias Thorne, thirty-two years old, and as of this morning, I am the Senior Curator of the Whitmore Archive, a position I have bled for, sweated for, and dreamed of with...
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