The Wistful Witness
The room smelled of ozone and stale coffee. You stood before the glass wall, your reflection fractured by the condensation. Inside the chamber, the machine hummed. It was a low, subsonic vibration that you felt in your teeth before you heard it with your ears. Dr. Aris Thorne stood beside you, his arms crossed. He did not look at the machine. He looked at you. "You are the anomaly," Thorne...
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