The Faded Sutra
Chapter One Can you hold fire without being burned? Neema Alemu asked the question aloud, her voice thin against the hum of the station’s ventilation. She was thirty-two, a senior archivist in the Imperial Ministry of Records, and she had twelve hours until the midnight deadline to complete the transcription of the Sutra of Iron. Her hands were steady, but the air scrubber filter on her desk,...
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