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Chapter 81: Temporary Machines
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Chapter 83: Shape of a Sound
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... here in the ceiling. On the table, a projection glowed - a stack of lines and numbers and tiny arrows, all of it precise and not at all interested in explaining itself to anyone who didn’t already belong.
Raizen leaned in, forearms planted, shadow cutting the light at a clean angle. "If we shave two grams here" he said, tapping near a curve that might have been a joint or might have been nothing, "this should let me change direction without blowing my spine up."
Saffi stood on hi ...
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