Clank, clank, clank. Sounds of metal hitting against metal rang in his ears, it was so loud. But he couldn't stop, not now. After leaving Cathy, he thought he'd be working somewhere in the random associations or offices in districts. Not joining a cult like organization named Nagel und Hammer.

Pieces of blood and organs slid down his armor, leaving a trail of crimson behind them. The unfortunate person lays under him, prosthetic body split open, insides and brain spilling out. He hated this, it made him sick, he wanted to vomit.

But he couldn't stop. Or else the one being split open on those huge nail-stakes would be him. He saw how they did it to those poor unfortunate souls. Only because they got those prosthetics.

Even after all this, he couldn't stop. His body couldn't. It followed the inquisitors' and The One Who Grips' commands like a loyal lapdog.

As he got up, he saw a figure at the corner of his eyes. Who was that? They didn't look like one of them.

"... Who..? Y.. You're not one of us." He says, voice shaky. His hammer lifted up just incase the stranger was a danger to him.