ST

The storm had been brutal—rain like bullets, wind howling like it wanted to drag you back home. You were already over an hour late when you finally burst through the glass doors of the House of Mouse, uniform slightly damp, heart pounding. The place looked… off. Dimmer lights. A faint fog rolling across the floor. And the clientele? Definitely not the usual crowd of cheerful toons.

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@misaisthechild
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