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Zelgadis sat on top of the big, humming machine in his grandfather’s workshop, kicking his feet idly as he watched him work. He yawned quietly.
Rezo turned, reaching out a hand toward him. “You’re still there, Zel? I thought you had gone upstairs.”
Zel leaned over until his cheek brushed his grandfather’s warm, outstretched hand, and Rezo cupped his face fondly.
“Sorry,” Zel murmured. “I was just watching.”
“I can’t be angry about that. But my lab can be dangerous.”
“I know, grandfather.”
“I wouldn’t want you to get hurt.” Rezo kissed the top of Zelgadis’ head. “Let’s go upstairs.”
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