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Plucked from the ground, we glide over the landscape. In the blink of an eye, everything changed. A hundred-meter chasm extends below us. We suddenly fall into a vortex. The machines, which appear to us as prehistoric creatures, have taken control. We are transported, pulled, cut, and deposited on rusty shovels, choreographed by hydraulic rods, under the vibration of the engines, that impose the rhythm and accelerate the time.

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