Transcript: What a barmy dream... some kind of fruit tree, spinning like a top, and it was pouring juice down Ryan's throat, choking the bastard. But it wasn't a tree, really, when I looked closer, it was the core control, the gizmo that feeds the mag locks on Ryan's gate. You can't cut off the power, comes right from the volcanic vents... Ryan always gets his juice. But I suppose you could drown the son of a bitch in it...
Location: Lower Workshops, on a corpse in the middle of room.
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