Lead Time

Problem solved.

After a night that witnessed a mighty donnybrook between a warmongering mind and an innocent left shoulder, I have determined the only course of action…

A containment building.

You know, those big lead shells that are plopped on misbehaving nuclear reactors? That’s what I need plopped on my brain.

Contain the crazy.

Seal it off from mankind.

Let some brave soul give the thing a peek in 75 years but leave me out of it.

See? Problem solved.

Until tomorrow…

Chloe

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