Elizabeth wasn't sure how she had ended up in the situation she currently found herself. Simply put, she was trapped. Underground, surrounded by Helix Soldiers, Elizabeth's stomach growled. It had been a few days at this point, and what little food the half-dragon had managed to scavenge had disappeared. A pair of old welding goggles adorned Elizabeth's face. On the table in front of her sat a high-temperature precision welder, along with a metal arm. She had lost her own a couple months ago, and fighting these damnable machines had only gotten harder. Grimacing, pain rocketed up her side. The stitches had been badly sewn after her side nearly got ripped out. Letting her hand massage the sore pains, Elizabeth realized something, something important. The dumbass had left her board on the floor above her. Sighing, Elizabeth fished a pencil out of one of the many pockets on her coat. Biting down on the small piece of wood, the woman mentally prepared herself. This was going to hurt, a lot.

Reaching over to her severed shoulder, Elizabeth began to take off the impromptu bandages. Then grasping the handle of her sword, the half-dragon set the edge of the blade against her skin. All of a sudden, a muffled scream came out of Elizabeth throat. A thin slab of flesh laid on the floor, blood dripping from her blade. Rushing over to the table, Elizabeth fought the pain. What had all that time in the Academy been for? Blood was flowing freely now, threatening to make it impossible for the arm to be mounted, but for the half-dragon, that didn't matter. Finding her rage, lightning began to build up around her shoulder. Then, shoving the metallic shoulder over her own, Elizabeth concentrated solely on the technology in the arm. All else flowed away, begrudgingly of course. Suddenly, she could feel it, the soul of the machine, sleeping soundly. Urging it, Elizabeth woke the slumbering beast. She directed it, made it change and grow, powering it with her own lightning. Pain rocketed throughout Elizabeth's consciousness, the arm's connectors had reached her nerves. It wouldn't be long now, but the last part was arguably the worse. Gasping, Elizabeth waited, it would be soon now. Sure enough, another muffled scream rose from Elizabeth's throat. The arm's shoulder was attaching itself to her own. The method was barbaric, but functional. Drills were cutting into the bone of her shoulder, going through the flesh, and anchoring the arm to her body. Then, the second part kicked in. Cherry hot bits of steel shoved themselves through her right shoulder, closer to her core now. Their cauterizing ability instantly stopping any blood from filling her lungs as they anchored themselves to bone and to each other.

Finally, the ordeal was over. Elizabeth laid, gasping for breath, curled up on the floor. She was drenched in sweat, a pencil snapped in half dangled from her quivering lips. Rich red hair was spread around her head. As her breathing slowed, Elizabeth's mind returned to the world of the living. Looking down at the new appendage, Elizabeth flexed her fingers. Oh god how it hurt, she almost blacked out again from the pain. Gritting her teeth, she flexed the new hand again. It still hurt, but not nearly as much as the first time. Taking a deep breath, Elizabeth attempted to push herself up, using her new arm. Unsurprisingly, her face then met the ground. Groaning, the stubborn woman pushed herself up again. Getting to her feet, Elizabeth stretched out the new joints. The sharp, mind-rending pain was gone now, replaced with a dull pain. Looking down at herself, Elizabeth noticed that she was completely covered in blood.

Steadily moving towards the table, Elizabeth steadied herself with its steel surface. Her new hand laid parallel to her own. They were practically mirror images of each other. The only differences were material and color. While the original was pale and made out of flesh and bone, the new one was black. It was also made out of metal. Taking in a deep, stedying breath, Elizabeth grabbed the old, black duffel bag on the floor. Bringing it up to the table, she unzipped it. Numerous tools sat inside, but on either side were pockets for pieces of machinery. Letting the welder fall in the middle, Elizabeth stored a few unused wires in the side. Zipping it back up she picked up a scratched helmet off the table's corner. Pulling the black helmet down over her head, Elizabeth swung the bag over her good shoulder. Her armor laid underneath her old, beat up duster. It covered her legs, abdomen, and left arm. The right arm's armor and clothing had been lost with the arm itself. Deep gouges were present in the left side of Elizabeth's armor, parallel with the scars that laid underneath. 

Elizabeth remembered how she had gotten those wounds. It had been just about the scariest fucking thing she had ever seen.