The Pale Mist
The hum of the ventilation system in Sub-Level Four had dropped a half-tone overnight, a subtle shift that Elias Thorne felt in his teeth before he heard it with his ears, a mechanical groan that signaled the pressure differential was failing just as Mara leaned forward, her knuckles white on the edge of the steel table, and whispered that the specimen in Vault Seven was no longer silent....
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