The PeaceMaker

Prologue

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction any resemblance to reality is purely a coincidence.

Warning: this is not an romance fiction, might get disappointed in most parts.

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"Can he hear us" the young intern who had his hands in his pockets asked his senior.

"Not yet" he re-adjusted his glasses before taking out his pad, marking a few things down.

The young intern readjusted your humerus-which was mostly metal- but he was stopped by his senior, Dustin, if I remember correctly "Be careful"

"It's okay, I've done this a lot of times-

"Really" Dustin faced the young intern "You've worked with a cyborg before, you don't get it do you"

He opened the surgery towel displaying what they've been working on for the past three months, I couldn't figure out you were an human or a robot, it's an combination if you ask me, veins running all over your body, but most part of your left leg and right arm were a chaotic mixture of limbs and wires most part of the ribcage were actual bones but the top part of your skull which wasn't connected to the body was made of metal.

Most part of damage couldn't amount upto what your right arm must have been through, the hard metal that was part of the glenohumeral joint, with a lot of wires running up and down.

"What should we do with his shoulder" Dustin examined your arm.

"What about it"

"Most part of his body could be covered with flesh, but his arm......." he pointed towards the hard metal "........we don't have a choice after all, huh"

"Shoulder plates, eh?"

"Yep"

Dustin connected your fibula to the body and proceeds with working on your skull, the young intern watches carefully, understanding how determined his senior was on making this work, on making you work.

"What happens if the processor doesn't work" the intern asked but Dustin, after he connected the skull to your vertebrae which happened to be a series of electronic plates.

"Well , you do what you can and the man in the sky takes care of the rest, huh?" he took out a bottle of rum and uncorked it his intern looked at him with hesitation "What? we deserve it"

"I get that" he looked around before whispering "but in a theatre, sir"

"I basically live here" he said out loud before taking a huge gulp from his bottle, the rum burned down his throat as he left out a wild groan "Ah, that feels good"

"Do you drink, Ellard" the young intern now that I know his name, Ellard looked down.

"No, sir" the young-british intern was a bit hesitant around his head now that I notice.

"Well, that's a pity" he took another gulp of his drink before throwing the rum in the bin.

"How's it going" the head of the project Mr.Daunte, who happened to be a old Spanish man, around mid forties. I remember meeting him during the New Year ball, good chap if you ask me, you're in good hands.