There are things that should be seen. And things that should remain hidden. Last night in that nightclub, you caught a glimpse of something you shouldn’t have. Like when Dorothy sees the wizard behind the curtain.
That wasn’t your fault. You weren’t to know. But see those things you did. And that means you have been noticed. By me. And you don’t want to be noticed by me. They’re not new things, they’re very very old. And you’re not the first to see them. So why were they a surprise? Why didn’t you know about them years ago? Because for as long as there have been creatures like that, there have been men like me. Silent, modest men whose job it is to keep the secret things secret.
Think of us as the domestic staff of the world. We appear in the dead of night and sweep up the mess and bury the bodies so the world is clean and smart for you the next day. We don’t work for these creatures. Most of them don’t know we even exist. No. We work for you.
But men like me are magicians too. And if we need to, we can make people disappear in a puff of smoke. Do you understand what I’m saying?
