The Wistful Cipher
I "You are a dead man, Manuel Montano, and you know it." The Chancellor’s voice was not loud, but it carried the weight of a stone dropped into a still pond, rippling out to touch the damp stone walls of the hearing room. The air was heavy with wet wool and the Chancellor’s cold, dismissive laughter, a sound that seemed to scrape against the very fabric of the silence. Manuel stood in the...
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