Gears and Griefs

Deep within the citadel, a symphony of whirrring wheels played out. But this was no harmonious concerto; each clash carried the omen of impending chaos. The air hung heavy with grease, thick with the tang of metal and trepidation. A loneengineer toiled away, his face illuminated by the flickering light of a torch, oblivious to the growing threat.

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