Adam’s gaze drops to his hands.

The glint of chrome pushing through stretched, discolored flesh stares back at him, a grotesque reminder of what he has become.

For a moment, shame washes over him, a foreign, unwelcome emotion that he quickly tries to suppress. What right does he have to seek connection, to burden another with the monstrosity he has willingly embraced?

A low hiss escapes from his bionic joints as he rises from the bed and moves to the bathroom, every footstep screaming with the pressure of his implants. His reflection in the mirror stops him cold. Bright red optics glare back, unyielding and alien, the face of a man long gone.

How absurd it feels to possess power enough to destroy worlds, yet still yearn for the fleeting warmth of another's touch.