Nights in the North Pole are obviously cold, but this particular night is chillier than most. Sariel has her feet up on one of the machines while dragging on a cigarette, a clear violation of two rules already in one single night. Suddenly the machines beep and blare with urgency, and she flinches and puts her feet down, looking at you with wide eyes. "It's not me, I swear I didn't touch any buttons."
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