Damage
He has nightmares, now. He's trying to build a tower made of glass, and he knows that if he can just get it to the moon the world will be saved, but a thousand glass-eating machines crowd around the base and turn it all to sand, and he keeps having to make the sand back into glass and--
"AUGH WHAT!?"
He sat bolt upright and banged his head hard against the glass of the stasis pod in which he lay. This still didn't register with him. More important:
"Arctic!? Are you ok, where's Synth, what the hell is..."
He pressed his hands against the glass. That looked like... the medbay.
"Uh... wait, what? ..."
Oh right. A knife to the back.
"Hey, but how am I not dead?"
From out of the corner of his vision appeared a med tech, sighing.
"Sir, please lie back down. We haven't finished repairing the damage to your back..."
"The hell with that, I can fix it myself! Where are my squadmates?"
"... sir, please--!"
"I'm fine! Let me - ow."
... okay, so that wasn't healed yet. Whatever. "Let me out!"
"AUGH WHAT!?"
He sat bolt upright and banged his head hard against the glass of the stasis pod in which he lay. This still didn't register with him. More important:
"Arctic!? Are you ok, where's Synth, what the hell is..."
He pressed his hands against the glass. That looked like... the medbay.
"Uh... wait, what? ..."
Oh right. A knife to the back.
"Hey, but how am I not dead?"
From out of the corner of his vision appeared a med tech, sighing.
"Sir, please lie back down. We haven't finished repairing the damage to your back..."
"The hell with that, I can fix it myself! Where are my squadmates?"
"... sir, please--!"
"I'm fine! Let me - ow."
... okay, so that wasn't healed yet. Whatever. "Let me out!"

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"Thank goodness. ... though why the hell did they put me in a tube!? Seriously?"
He spun around a bit, his wings banging against the glass. "I can barely move in here, it's terrible!"
"Anyway... so... okay, what happened? Did Synth somehow save our asses while we were out?"
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He paused for a couple seconds, twiddling his thumbs.
"So... I guess you had to go up against a fire-type? I'm sorry I couldn't get there in time, this ice-type caught me and showed me her stabs before I could get to you."
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He gave a swift nod.
"Soon as they let us out of this stupid medbay. I feel fine, dammit, I have work to do!"
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He shook his head. "Because no offense to Synth but I kind of doubt he took on two Mavericks by himself and won. Unless that's why they're keeping him so long. And oh for goodness sake I know how this thing works, can you see the tech? Nevermind."
He turned around again and carefully ran his fingers along the back of the pod, flicking his fingers into his toolset.
"I think if I just... yep!"
The thing popped open and he hopped out onto the floor... only to faceplant.
"... I'm fine! My motor functions just don't seem entirely recovered yet...?"
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"Look," he said to the indignant Hunter. "You can barely walk, sir, just..."
"Well, can you at least tell us what's going on with our partner, or is that classified?"
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"What?" Arctic blinked. "But Synth..."
"...from what I'm hearing, came back without a scratch on him, with you two badly wounded. And his stories are all a little strange."
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A thousand possibilities, all of them entirely impossible.
"I'd trust Synth with my life, whatever's going on it can't possibly be foul play, I'm sure it's just... weirdness. I dunno."
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Arctic looked a little shaken, her facade imperfect. "Synth can't be infected."
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"He can't be, I just know it. I'm sure he's fine, they're just being overly-cautious, like they always are! Everything's going to b--"
"Warning: You have been too active. Auto-repair temporarily aborted. Activating temporary shut-down measures to ensure complete repair."
"What? No, hey, I'll st--"
Everything went black again as the pod forced him into unconsciousness.
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