The Distant Temple
The gilded rotunda of the Ministry of Internal Order hummed with the low, electric buzz of fluorescent lights that never flickered, never dimmed, never slept. Elias stood at the center of the marble floor, his shoes scuffed and thin, his hands trembling not from fear but from a primal, instinctual hunger to be seen by the Director. He wanted the Senior Archivist post, a concrete prize that...
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