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cranium tilts、 a slight mechanical sound accompanying the movement. a strand of nylon hair is tucked behind silicone ear、 unaware of the human ichor tainting small、 stoic features. “ another failure、mother. my hypothesis is the turret
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𝐇er great, wired frame descends silently from the spool of white—panel rings above. That single, focusing lens extends from its jet-black hood.
The curved plate over her face shifted downward, like a brow, furrowed with curious intrigue.
“ And ..? -—— What happened? ”
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