“Classic piece of Auger work, that one; built out of some old steam train and a paradise of scrap metal. You’ll hear the rumblings long ‘fore it gets close… but gods help you if it does. It’ll chew ya up and spit you back out as a pile of ash floatin’ down from on high — you’d almost think it were snow, were it not for the pitch black cloud of smog leadin’ it…”
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