Worse than usual? Called it. Sure, every night was a real piece of work, but if everyone let it get to them all the time the Institute would've been filled up with walking ghosts by day three. No, after a while you developed a second set of plating for all of the average woes and disasters this place threw at you: creepy crawlies, dark hallways, even the way people vanished left, right and center.

So when you got a guy who looked like he'd been kicked around the place a few dozen times the night before? It was pretty safe to assume that they were either a particularly sensitive newbie or fresh back from the Pit- and Byrne definitely hadn't only just woken up.

But that was Byrne's business, not his. He wasn't about to hold hands and put together a hug circle or something over it.

Instead, he gave a flat, unhappy smile. At least Byrne had the guts to ask it straight up. "Uploaded and upgraded on Planet Cybertron. Guess I'm what you types'd just call a 'robot', to keep things nice and simple. Take it that means you're an Earthling?"