Rayne Drops (FFXV)

XL) Skilled Suppressor

"You're done already?" I ask in disbelief, opening my bedroom door to see Dr. Carver waiting patiently with his briefcase.

"I am indeed finished," he replies cheerfully, brushing past me briskly and setting his case on the table. I blink at the empty space left in front of me before shaking my head and shutting the door halfway. "You said you wanted the plain metal design?"

"Pretty sure," I nod, peering around him at the glinting, polished pieces in his case. "@#$%, looks complicated."

"The complicated part is over- for the most part," he responds under his breath, pushing up his glasses and pulling the individual parts out. "Piecing it together is easy; connecting it with your nervous system is fairly difficult."

"Hang on, what?" I ask, raising an eyebrow. "Explain this whole ordeal again."

"Of course," he nods, looking up. "Your central nervous system- CNS, for short- contains your brain, which acts as the control center for the rest of the nerves in your body. I've installed hypersensiti... Well, that might be a bit over your head," he muses,

"Calling me stupid, Pops?" I tease. He looks up nervously.

"N-no, of course not. It took me decades to develop this, is all."

"I'm kidding," I scoff. "Continue."

"To put it basically, this prosthetic will have the ability to be controlled in every way your... late arm could, including the perception of touch."

"So basically, it's a robo-arm full of robo-nerves," I clarify. "I'm a cyborg starting today."

"I suppose so," he chuckles, holding up the fully assembled limb. "If you could, stand over there and move your sleeve."

"Alrighty," I huff, standing in the middle of the room where there's plenty of empty space and rolling up my t-shirt sleeve to reveal the badly scarred end to my right arm.

"I am warning you beforehand," Carver says carefully, his gray eyes meeting mine earnestly. "This hurts quite a bit. There's..."

"I don't need to know why," I mutter. "Just do it already."

"Whatever you say," he sighs, holding the round top of the arm up and fitting it nearly up to my shoulder. "Ready?"

"How many times do I have to say..." There's a sharp jerk throughout my entire body as he presses the power button. A continuous throbbing grows more intense as it rips through what remains of my real arm, more electrical currents rushing through my body. I grit my teeth together, refusing to make a sound.

"Doing alright?"

"It's definitely... uncomfortable," I force with a wince. He hides a smile, shaking his head and releasing the button under his finger. Carefully, he reaches down and presses his hand against mine. What the...

"Working?" he chuckles, watching me utterly confused expression. I pull my new hand back toward my face and flex the metal fingers in front of my face. They're the same as my real fingers: long and slender, but with a strong, sure grip.

"You weren't kidding when you said this was like having my arm back again," I mutter, mesmerized. How is this even possible? I thought this kind of crap needed the power of the Crystal. My breath catches in my throat. I guess that's why the imperials are winning—they've got this kind of technology on their side. Our "strengths" are dropping like flies. I hold my arms out and compare them. Except for the metal form of one, alongside its locked panels, they're the same. The same shape, the same width, the same length. This guy deserves more than anything I could ever give him.