The Pale Altar

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2026-08-24 10:30:54 -

The Pale Altar

The prefecture ran on the rhythm of the shift change, a mechanical exhale that swept through the coal dust and the recycled air of the habitat, where the drizzle against the glass was not weather but a scheduled purge of the external sensors, a physical fact that soaked through coats and settled into the joints of every worker who waited for the next rotation to begin, a constant that defined...

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