Following the successful decryption of Sector One, Serena sat on the velvet sofa in Malachi’s private drafting library, gently flexing her left fingers. The intense acoustic pressure required to sustain the micro-tonal frequency for three continuous minutes without the slightest waver had left tender red welts across her fingertips. Without a word, Malachi walked to the side credenza and returned with a small jar of amber arnica salve prepared by…
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