It’s almost as if growing a new body for yourself and putting your original head on it is fraught with complexity
Your headless clone percolates in a giant vat, growing in proportion to the amount of HGH you dump in the tank.
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For now, you can wait. You pour over your own MRI data, scribbling mad notes in the effort to decipher your spinal cord's wiring diagram.
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Meanwhile, the immature body bobs up and down, glowing eeirly. You reassure party guests that it is a leftover Hallowe'en decoration.
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