It’s almost as if growing a new body for yourself and putting your original head on it is fraught with complexity
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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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"Immortality is a prison," you sigh to yourself as you replenish the slurry of acids, both amino and fatty, that are tube-fed to the clone
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