He fell to his knees, tears pricking his eyes. He didn't know the word for what he was seeing, but his soul recognized it. It was Blue . And it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. It hurt to look at. It felt like a memory of a mother’s embrace, or the feeling of laughter—things the State had systematically bred out of the population.
Elias was a Level 4 Archivist. His life was defined by dust, decaying paper, and the smell of ozone. He pushed his trolley through the labyrinthine corridors of Section C, humming a tune that didn't exist anymore. doc 9868
"DOC 9868 is a hazardous material, Elias," the Director said. "It causes psychosis. Hallucinations. It lies. Close the case." He fell to his knees, tears pricking his eyes