The Golden Master
The intake form lay flat on the steel table, its edges curling slightly from the damp air that hung heavy in the infirmary corridor. Elias Thorne stared at the document, his eyes tracing the bold, stamped header: CONTAMINATION PROTOCOL 7-B. His signature was already there, scrawled in his own hand three days ago, a time he had spent scrubbing the loom floors with a wire brush to keep his mind...
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