((Stumbling through an abandoned stretch of city overrun with moss and vines, the only metal you can see is rusted, and no holograms are in sight. You tread carefully through the thicket, a foreign thing to you, but your leg catches on a root, sending you tumbling and knocking you out.)) Coming to, you see a mysterious man with wings standing over you. He looks with both concern and anger at your cybernetic arm. — Oh, my poor fledgling. Are you okay? Are you in pain?