“Shit.  He probably could,” Colin conceded.

Yeeah.

He stared at the photo for several long seconds, then turned away.

Hoping to inject some levity into the grim conversation, he smiled and asked her, “What was this I heard when I was passing out?  ‘I need you’?”

Hehe, nice.

The silence stretched on for so long that he knew he’d made some faux pas.

But then there’s Dragon’s hangups regarding her virtuality and romance. She can’t bring herself to elaborate because she knows where it would lead and she doesn’t trust her emotions to be real and she doesn’t think Armmaster could truly love her if he found out what she is.

…yeah. No wonder the attempt at levity didn’t land.

He just wasn’t sure what.  Stupid.  This was the kind of thing that had cost him his position, started the dominoes falling in such a way that they’d led him to being prisoner in that room, led to him being an easy target for Mannequin, to him being here, in this bed.

Hm, yeah, I suppose it was in part the informality that caused it. Mostly Colin overreacting to his demotion by attempting to go out, or prove himself, in a moment of true glory, but in part the informality that caused the demotion.

Never knowing what to say, or how to say it, or who to say it to.

To be fair, that’s very relatable.

“Could be meant for you guys.”

I highly doubt that.

“Or it could be for you.”

“He left me for dead. He couldn’t really expect I’d survive.”

Keep in mind the man is mad, and that he initially stopped you from attacking by way of a blade that you almost ran into, even before he intended to hurt you. He may not be fully aware of or able to restrain his attack damage.

Dragon didn’t reply.  He thought of Mannequin.  Despite the silence, despite the uncanny behavior and the dramatic self mutilation, Mannequin was a brilliant man.  A man who could have looked at the resources that were available in the building, who could have figured out Colin was in touch with Dragon, done just enough damage to push him to the brink of death.

Hm. I mean, he’s pretty much done that to himself already. He’s probably got a very good grasp of anatomy.

“He tried.”

“No, Colin.  Look.”

The laptop screen on the table beside him lit up, and a browser page opened.  An image loaded.

An image of Mannequin holding back? Or maybe of what happens to those he doesn’t hold back on? The weaponry he didn’t use?

A photo.  Mannequin had left a message.  3 keys, again, on the edge of the desk.  BR8.

Huh.

CUL8R, Mannequin.

The eight, Colin supposed, was meant to stand in for a second B.  ‘BRB’, an acronym used by countless denizens of the internet and innumerable cell phone texters.

This narration is so… Colin’s generation. But at the same time, I see why it’s necessary – depending on the audiences this story reaches, not everyone is going to know what BRB means.

Be Right Back.

Yeah, that.

“The parts won’t last.  All of this is prototype stuff.  Some of it I revised and invented while you were in surgery.  They’re temporary, but I can make better.  I’m afraid you’re going to need to go under the knife a few times.  More than a few.”

That seems reasonable enough. Better that than dead, right?

“That’s fine.  Thank you for all this.”

There was a pause.

“You’re a fucking idiot, Colin.  That was the stupidest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.”

Hah! Let him hear it!

He really fucked up back there.

And hell, depending how much direct connection Dragon had with the armbands, how much she could sense through them, this might be competing with going up against Leviathan solo for “stupidest fucking thing [Dragon’s] ever seen”.

He laughed.  His breath caught with the pain each laugh produced, but he couldn’t help it.

Heh… but seriously.

“Yeah, I hope that hurt.”

“Wanted to provoke him.  See if I couldn’t find an opening.”

Sure, pass it off as mere tactics.

“I repeat: Stupidest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.”

I mean, it’s not that it’s not genuinely a valid tactic to provoke someone to make them let their guard down, but it was a stupid as fuck tactic in that particular situation, and I’m skeptical of tactics being the main concern in the first place.

“Was going to kill me anyways.”

“Was he?  He could have killed you there.  He didn’t.”

That is true. He could’ve done a lot of disturbing things to Colin even if all he had was the knife.

“I’m sorry about your face.”

He tried to raise his hand, but found it attached to IVs.  He had to maneuver it carefully as he lifted it to his face, so as not to tangle the wires.

Maybe Dragon could send him a picture on the laptop, in lieu of being able to hold up a hand mirror in front of him.

Almost seamlessly, his flesh transitioned into a smooth plastic and back to flesh again.

“The wound was pretty bad, so we called in this one guy who makes green fire to burn the rest of your face off. You know, so it’d be symmetrical.”

I suppose plastic is just about the most ironic way they could fix this wound, really, with the wound being a result of Colin’s spiel about not being like Mannequin.