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I exist alone on this soundscape. I am lost between machinery-- large, looming, shifting things. Here, underneath the mechaniplex, life's silvery veneer wears thin; behold! How her cold, corroded and creaking underparts lay exposed! I leave this inscription to whomever fate has misguided-- so often she plays the part of the pied piper-- read this, or I will be condemned to utter anihhilation within this hell...