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January 21, 2013
PASSAGE through the filter-field was torture.

Saws tore at every cell. Pain flared from every nerve ending. Sickening colors, sounds, smells and tastes consumed the remainder of my perception. What held me up Iíll never know, but I staggered through all two meters of it and collapsed to cold tile in a heap of flesh, blood, and vomit.

Then Andersí men, in their smocks, masks and gloves, ran over, hoisted me up, and hustled me around to the front of the chamber. And pushed me through.

Pain. Blood. Tile.

And again.

After the fourth pass, I stayed standing.

Perfected.