Florian stared at the papers spread out on the desk before him, his pen hovering uncertainly above the sixth page. His normally sharp handwriting had become sloppy and uneven, a reflection of the storm of thoughts raging in his mind.
Each sheet contained crucial information: details he had gathered from Cashew's observations, Lucius' confession, and his own findings. It was all meant to be compiled into a neat report, something Lucius could hand over to Heinz. Yet, Florian found himself paralyzed, unable to focus.
'What the hell was that?' he thought, biting the inside of his cheek as his eyes drifted to the far wall.
No matter how hard he tried to concentrate on the report, his mind kept circling back to it. The vision. The memory. A scene that felt too vivid to dismiss yet too surreal to accept—a full-on sex scene between Lucius and the original Florian.
