The Wistful Show
The document on the metal table was a standard Federal Bureau of Paranormal Containment intake form, printed on heavy, cream-colored stock that smelled faintly of ozone and stale coffee. Elias Thorne read the lines with the mechanical precision of a man who had spent twelve years verifying cargo manifests at the border, his eyes tracking the ink as it detailed the seizure of a Class-A cognitive...
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