The Faded Frontier
Act I Words here do not stay put; they bleed when spoken aloud. I am Gustave Lambert, an orbital debris spotter in the dome city of Vael, and I have spent forty years tracing the slow decay of our atmosphere through the static of dead satellites. The light in my workshop is always amber, filtered through the grime of the dome’s inner glass, and it makes my hands look older than they are. My...
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