[ The pain of being alive, for a given value of alive, is potent and excruciating. It's a mercy that what few fragments of him are still conscious are numb.
It's a miracle he still remembers anything outside of the red-hot jumble of agony his soul has become.
(It fragments and pulses with desperate energy, a fractured web of nerves tangled up inside themselves. Mangled and raw like the patients he had worked on a lifetime ago.)
But he remembers - something of himself, at least. Enough to follow, enough to use his new powers to defend the person he once tried to protect, in some attempt to make up for what he already failed at once, and that is mostly all. He never speaks, unless the shriek of tortured metal and a once-human voice is speaking.
He follows Avery like a macabre shadow, just watching him when there's nothing else to do. The behaviour is a little like a creature that seems to have no concept of object permanence. ]
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It's a miracle he still remembers anything outside of the red-hot jumble of agony his soul has become.
(It fragments and pulses with desperate energy, a fractured web of nerves tangled up inside themselves. Mangled and raw like the patients he had worked on a lifetime ago.)
But he remembers - something of himself, at least. Enough to follow, enough to use his new powers to defend the person he once tried to protect, in some attempt to make up for what he already failed at once, and that is mostly all. He never speaks, unless the shriek of tortured metal and a once-human voice is speaking.
He follows Avery like a macabre shadow, just watching him when there's nothing else to do. The behaviour is a little like a creature that seems to have no concept of object permanence. ]