The Pale Protocol
The Director’s voice, muffled by the heavy oak of his office door, had called out to Elias Thorne not as a man, but as a function. "Thorne. Come in. We have matters of institutional continuity to discuss." The summons had arrived on a Tuesday, sharp and bright against the grey drizzle that streaked the high windows of the St. Jude’s Behavioral Institute, a rain that felt less like weather and...
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