The Faded Frontier
The notification arrived on a slip of thermal paper, the ink still warm and smelling faintly of ozone and burnt sugar. It was a standard Form 14-B, a request for medical clearance, printed in a font so sterile it seemed to vibrate with bureaucratic indifference. Elias Thorne read it twice, his eyes tracking the jagged line of text that declared his fitness for duty as "under review." The paper...
0 Commentarii 0 Distribuiri 1 Views 0 previzualizare