The Pale Tale
Chapter One Willis Roudebush stood in the furnace room of the Oria data-sanctuary, his hands wrapped in heat-resistant gloves that smelled of ozone and burnt polymer, arguing with his master, Silas, while the molten glass of the ancient kilns glowed a furious, living orange around them. The air hung with the hum of the ventilation fans, a sound that had been drilling into Willis’s skull for...
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