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Chapter 4: Faking It
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The wind smelled like oil and old metal. Somewhere nearby, a power relay was burning out. It made a soft clicking noise like someone trying to light a match that had long since given up.
He turned into a side street with less foot traffic. The kind of block where kiosks didn't bother fixing their backlights and people walked faster for no reason.
That's where he found the gear box.
Wedged between a busted stairwell and a gutter pipe someone tied with red prayer ribbo ...
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