The Pale Protocol
The apples in my pantry have turned to black sludge, and I am the only one who sees it, a localized decay that spreads with a slow, wet certainty while the rest of the palace remains untouched by the rot. I am Elias Thorne, forty-two years old, a junior archivist at the Royal Palace, and I am desperate to secure a permanent tenure before my savings vanish into the ether of London’s relentless...
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