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“I’m sorry,” he said aloud, not to the machine, but to the silence. “I'm sorry for the love I hid. I'm sorry for the truth I buried.”

Not electronically. Emotionally . A wave of pure, ancient sorrow flooded the lab, dropping the temperature ten degrees. Then, from the resonator's speaker, a voice spoke. It was like rusted bells and wind through a dead forest. anemrco

Aris, shivering, whispered, “What are you?” “I’m sorry,” he said aloud, not to the