Vault
His bones hissed, the mechanical bits in his frame creaked and screamed, bubbling with oil. violent convulsions shook him, thick, black ooze seeping from his sockets. sarin watched him. no flesh, but a fascinating result all the same.
Threads of Fate, Chapter Two.6a
The pointed metal pole ripped up through his fatigues along his lower right leg and up into the machine bits of his orange-colored replacement limb. "fuck!" he yelled out as the beeping from his left ear continued. "who is calling me!?"