The Distant Nightmare
"The fog is not a hallucination, Baraka; it is the border’s own memory, and you are bleeding into it." I heard this from Sergeant Kael, his voice flat and administrative, as if he were reading a form rather than accusing a man. We stood in the assembly room of the checkpoint, the air heavy with wet wool and the low, constant hum of the server room behind us, a cold and loud place where the...
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