PREVIEW
... my teeth ache.
We stepped out of the sweltering, toxic heat of the canyon floor and crossed an invisible, humming threshold. Instantly, the oppressive yellow smog vanished. The temperature plummeted to a crisp, perfectly regulated sixty-eight degrees.
The air no longer tasted of sulfur and dissolved bone. It smelled of synthetic jasmine, chilled champagne, and the crisp, clean scent of newly printed currency.
We had reached the VIP promenade at the base of the Flesh Exch ...
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