The wrongness in the heart of the factory, along with the despair, hit Nema hard.
Most disturbing of all, familiarity.
No wonder the Lake was so agitated by the sentient metal. It recognized a piece of itself, lost long ago - and now sick. So very ill after all that had been done.
Artuur's request to destroy was the quickest solution, and perhaps the most merciful.
The moment she reached that cup and looked at the water left inside - stagnant and angry - the Lake rose in her, powerful and commanding.
Drink.
She'd prefer not to.
Drink. It is the only way to stop the sickness from spreading any further.
To stop any more of the tainted gears from being distributed.
"How about instead we fire it in a furnace and burn the taint out?"
Noooo. The Lake inside her wailed. It wanted her to
