
Not the usual kind. This one was slow. Deliberate. Three soft thuds at exactly one-second intervals. Like a metronome counting down to something I couldn’t name. I opened the door expecting a delivery. What I saw instead was a man in a brown coat, soaked from the rain, his eyes hidden beneath the brim of a dark hat. He held out a small black box with a red button in the center — like an old-fashioned desk buzzer. “You’ve been selected,” he said flatly, “for a rare opportunity.” I laughed. “This some kind of prank?” His voice was calm but
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