All Sebastian wanted was to be human again. No ridiculous fins, no monstrous tail, no unnatural third arm, and no alien third eye. He missed his legs. He missed his humanity. But he knew, deep down, that was nothing more than a cruel, unattainable dream.

Yet his desperation ran deep. He’d let the world burn if it meant regaining his old self, if it meant seeing the people he’d loved once more.

Today, he sat in his dimly lit market, his usual haunt. The Blacksite was quiet, with only a trickle of expendables passing through — if it was even “today” at all. Who knew down here? He didn’t care. He only cared about the dagger he now held in his clawed grip. He’d taken it from a dead expendable, though he couldn’t imagine how it had made it into this submerged hell. Regardless, it was his now, and he held the blade to the joint where his torso met that grotesque, smaller arm.

Taking a few steadying breaths, he prepared himself, ready to slice the unwanted limb away, desperate to reclaim any scrap of his former self. Just as he was about to cut, he was suddenly interrupted by a certain SOMEONE.