The Hallucination of the Void
The walls of the clinic were a pale, nauseating green, the kind of color that suggested cleanliness but smelled of bleach and old despair. Marcus sat on the edge of the plastic chair, his fingers twitching in a rhythmic, subconscious pattern. "Tell me about the rose again, Marcus," Dr. Aris said, his voice a soothing, professional drone. Marcus closed his eyes. Immediately, the clinic vanished....
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