His glands were leaking, degraded. His stress hormones were elevated, the gnaw at the back of his eyes… eye, was there more these days. He licked his lips… well tried – he hadn’t had lips for a long time now, had little of a mouth or even a jaw to speak of any more but the instinct was still there.
Like his old instincts and tics, he still dreamt of Scarlet Well. Of his deaths. Losing his legs, most of his throat. He didn’t know how many times he had been resurrected and put back in the fight. And then, that was it. He was a civilian again.
‘Thanks guardsman, the Mechanicus appreciates your service, you can even keep your bionics’
How could he live a normal life as he was. As this thing. This monster? This Ghola? Well he couldn’t, so he did what he could do, what he was now built to do…
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