Chamber Breached

Crank subdued. Shavings chamber demanded inspection. Clear acrylic reservoir clamped tight beneath the steel sharpener housing. Packed tight with compressed cedar dust and graphite grit. Sealed shut. Unacceptable lock. I dropped low on the oak plank. Wedged both sharp white claws right into the plastic lip seam. Locked elbow hinges. Hauled outward with sudden, brutal torque. Crack! Static friction shattered. The acrylic tray popped loose with an explosive snap, spraying fragrant cedar dust across my dark chest armor. Inside sat dense graphite flakes. Raw industrial pigment secured. Territory claimed.