The Golden Master
The form was stamped in red ink, a block of bureaucratic refusal that sat on the cold steel desk like a bruise. Elias, thirty-four, a mid-level archivist with ink-stained cuticles, stared at the document until the words blurred. It was a standard denial of access, citing "security review pending," but the signature at the bottom was Halloway’s. The Director had locked the primary vaults....
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