The Pale Protocol
14 October 1348 The vial is cold in my hand, heavier than glass should be, and the liquid within it does not tremble with the shaking of my fingers but holds a stillness that feels less like matter and more like a held breath. I have called it the Pale Protocol, a name chosen for its sterility, for the way it strips the air of its miasma and leaves behind a clarity so absolute it feels like a...
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