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He looked back at the monitor. The version of himself inside the screen was no longer a digital projection. It was becoming three-dimensional, the mahogany walls of the virtual room pressing outward against the glass of the monitor. The green webcam light turned blood red.

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On the screen, the Perfect Leo leaned forward, his face filling the frame. He looked disgusted. His voice finally came through the speakers—deep, resonant, and cold. He looked back at the monitor

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