The Emotion Harvest - Dystopian Thriller
The club in the underground sector didn't smell of jazz. It smelled of recycled air, stale sweat, and the sharp chemical tang of the emotion-monitoring equipment that the resistance had jury-rigged from stolen government hardware. But underneath all of that, if you stood in the basement and pressed your ear against the wall, you could feel it. A vibration. Something humming. That was the only...
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