The Wistful Saga
The badge reader chimed, a flat, digital rejection that cut through the sterile hum of the Meridian Corporate Spire’s atrium, and Elias Thorne stood frozen, his hand still raised, the leather of his grip sweating against the cold plastic. The security guard, a young man with the polished indifference of someone who had not yet learned to look at people as anything other than data points, did...
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