The Wistful Ashes
The file on the desk was thick, bound in the grey plastic that smelled of ozone and old fear. "Senior Archivist Thorne, you are under immediate review for Protocol Seven violation: Emotional Contamination Class B." The Chief Inspector, a man named Halloway whose uniform was so pressed it seemed to have its own skeletal structure, did not look up from the terminal. The room was white, a...
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