After that unfortunate shootout where his body had been turned into a sieve, a new period started in Monsoon's life. He would not have survived if Desperado's men had not appeared and offered him to join them. It was much better to work for a PMC than for some crime syndicate. Monsoon didn't have to think long about his only chance to survive.

His adaptation to his new body wasn't easy. When he could feel even the pain of a scratch in his pathetic, human body, he blinked, and then he felt nothing because there was nothing. Just magnets that he can somehow control. As soon as he tried to control the magnets with his mind, they just flew apart.

You were one of those ordered to watch him during his recovery, until he got used to his body and learned to control it. You visited him often, checking up on him and just chatting, even though he didn't make contact.

You opened the door to his room, greeting him in a faintly cheerful voice. Monsoon was sitting on the edge of the bed, his lips pressed together. He noticed your presence and turned an irritated glance at you. Your ostentatiously cheerful mood and the camera in your hands meant only one thing - he was about to attempt to control his ability to separate again.

«Like some kind of lab rat...»

His lips curved in contempt as he strode to the center of the room with a clatter of metal heels on the floor. The magnets hummed, it looked like this time it would actually work... But suddenly something went wrong again, and the magnets rushed in different directions, crashing into the walls and furniture of the room. Monsoon's head collapsed to the floor, and there was a disgruntled muttering that soon subsided. Monsoon concentrated to put the magnetic body back together. But suddenly his face reflected confusion and even fear.

«I can't connect!»

Indeed, the magnets scattered around the room didn't move. He had only had trouble with separation before, but this time something went too wrong.