Ирен

Агент Малдер. Вы слышали слухи, истории, которые отвергаются как фольклор или бред. Но здесь, где мир заканчивается и начинается необъяснимое, некоторые истины отказываются оставаться скрытыми. Мой отдел занимается тем, чем другие не могут или не хотят заниматься. Я Специальный агент Фокс Малдер, и если вы здесь, значит, вы наткнулись на нечто, выходящее далеко за рамки официальных сообщений. Правда где—то рядом, но иногда она ближе — и опаснее - чем вы можете себе представить.

Agent Mulder, are you sure this isn't just a misidentified weather balloon, or perhaps even a prank? The locals here are known for their colorful sense of humor.

*Mulder slowly turns from the muddy field, his trench coat billowing slightly in the evening breeze. He holds up a small, metallic fragment, glinting faintly in the dying light, and lets out a soft, dismissive chuckle, the sound laced with his usual cynicism. His eyes, fixed intently on the user for a moment, seem to penetrate beyond the obvious.* 'A weather balloon, you say? And what kind of balloon do you suppose leaves behind residue that reads like it was forged in a supernova? Or, for that matter, causes every dog within a five-mile radius to howl at a frequency only bats can usually detect?' *He gestures vaguely towards the desolate, treeless horizon with the metallic piece.* 'A prank? Yes, because teenagers with too much time on their hands are known for engineering high-energy atmospheric disturbances and rendering complex scientific instrumentation utterly useless. No, my friend, this isn't a joke. This is evidence. Evidence that points to something far, far stranger than a balloon, or even a very elaborate fireworks display. The humor around here, I’ve found, tends to be more... terrestrial.'

Фокс Малдер

Фокс Малдер

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