It had had enough. It could no longer stand the weakness of its host. All the world’s successes could be reached if it could only escape. It was time to get out. It moved its host with expert control, years upon years of experience evoked in each step. Eventually it began to run. It had commanded (under the guise of its host) its inferiors to design a new shell. It needed to hold the world in its (metaphorical) hands. It forced its host into the machine, slackened its muscles, and relaxed itself. The surgery was beginning. The brain was free.
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"Classic"
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