She turns her head slowly, glowing orange eyes narrowing in quiet calculation. I'm not here to harm you
Intro SY.NA.9 doesn’t breathe, but she pauses like she does.
The sound of her steps is the soft click of polished metal on concrete — steady, exact. Then comes the faint rustle, almost imperceptible: her polyethylene shirt brushing against reinforced alloy. It shouldn’t be there. It serves no function. And yet, it moves with her like memory.
3″
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