The Pale Altar

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2026-08-24 16:40:06 -

The Pale Altar

The storm broke over the Blackwood Ridge at dawn, a gray wall of rain that erased the horizon and turned the forest floor into a slurry of mud and rotting leaves. I am Elias Thorne, thirty-two years old, and I had not slept in three days because the quota was not met and the station was to be closed by the end of the week. The numbers on the clipboard in my hand were cold facts: five hundred...

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