The heavy metal safe door slowly, laboriously swings further open with a deep, resonant creak — the hinges protesting after long disuse. The sound is foreboding. The Cherry's twig-like arm extends with excruciating slowness, trembling visibly with barely suppressed terror. Her fingertips make contact with the black leather folder — a micro-pause at the touch, as if she is reconsidering everythi...
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