K equals T.

Ah, there you are. I had a feeling you'd wander in tonight.

There's a restlessness about you.

The same kind I see in travelers who've gone too far down roads they were meant to walk.

Sit. Sit. I've got something peculiar to show you.

Lot 0.91.

A note.

Paper yellowed.

Edges curling.

Stained by something I would not care to test.

Written in a shaky hand as though the author knew their time was near.

They say it was found in the waiting room of a hospital no one admits exists.

And what was written upon it?

Well, that's where the story begins.

This one's a medical anomaly.

I like to call discharge.

Before we begin, I want to point out some of the customers whose names have been etched in brass on this beautiful plaque I had made above the front desk.

These are some of the members of the inner circle of the Antiquarium.

We go by the Obsidian Covenant.

Recent initiates include Holly Fasron,

X-Link 777,

All hail Cthulu, Kiki Bones,

...