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Chapter 85: Off the Rails
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Chapter 87: An Act of Betrayal
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... ling distinctly of burnt despair and industrial regret.
The first thing I registered was the taste, a gritty blend of soot, copper, and what I could only assume was the charred ghost of my last three bad decisions. My tongue felt like sandpaper that had lost the will to live.
Somewhere far off, something dripped steadily—water, blood, melted steel, who could say? The rhythm of it was almost peaceful, if you ignored the orchestra of crackling fire and the occasional hiss of tortur ...
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