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As we slide past the lower right of the weapon boxes central mound, a grave-yard lump filled with many unwilling and helpless soul-pixels, we are greeting by the sudden appearance of a butterfly-twisted picture plane, the very same shape as the heart machine that helped lift fallen Jacob up to the Pulsating Place not too many years ago. This twister folds into a sphere, madly in love with us and all living things like us. |
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