The Distant Cartograph
The alarm in the Federal Bureau of Anomalies command center was not a sound but a vibration, a low hum that settled in the teeth and the marrow. Sergeant Elias Thorne stood before the glass containment unit, his reflection ghosting over the swirling, fleshy mass inside. The Cartograph. It looked like a tumor the size of a grapefruit, pulsing with a rhythm that did not match his own heartbeat....
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