prologue

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(EDITED 14/08/22)

A man's feet, in shabby work shoes stalked through a junk bin in a dark, fire-lit, ash dusted place. A huge boiler room appeared in his peripheral, is what it is, although half of the infrastructure was hiding within the darkness. His hand is revealed all dirty and nail-bitten as he reached and picked up a piece of metal.

He then grabbed a grimey work glove, slashing it with a straight razor, until its fingertips were off. Those hands then started fishing knives out of a filthy bag — their blades thin, curved and gleaming.

The man wheezed, but still didn't step into the light. As time passed, more metal was being assembled with crude tools, into some sort of linkage -- a splayed, spidery sort of apparatus, against a background light of fire, and a deep rushing of steam.

Even more sounds were heard and it was as if he was linking his work by attaching it to the glove; the blades included. Then, the man's hand slipped into his glove-like apparatus, filling it out and transforming it into an awesome, deadly claw-hand with four razor/talons gleaming at its blackened fingertips. 

Suddenly, the hand arched and struck forward, slashing through a dark canvas, tearing it to shreds...

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