The Faded Sutra
The letter lay on the desk, its edges crisp and white against the dark oak, and you read it twice before your hand moved to the pen. The ink was blue, the font small and bureaucratic, and the message was simple: your report on the Sutra incident was classified as a clerical error, and your final commendation for the Jubilee was on hold pending a review of your adherence to protocol. You signed...
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