Forte woke up with a start, to the chipper voice of the head doctor. After taking a moment to recall what had happened the night before, his anger and frustration rose again. He was muttering under his breath when he realized he didn't even have his dog to confide in. He hadn't even thought about Gospel much since arriving in this nightmare, but he realized he missed the mutt for more reasons than fighting ability. He wouldn't admit it to himself, but the way his training session had ended just made him feel useless again. If he couldn't even fight, or block a single real punch after training to do so the whole night, what was he good for?

He ignored the friendly voices of the nurses as they led him to the cafeteria, and got in line for food. A small blessing, he piled bacon and sausage onto his plate, with a small amount of some cubed form of fruit for nutrition. At least there was one measly thing he was finding he could enjoy. His eyes lit up - or at least, eased their sullen glare - just the slightest bit as he walked past a man that protested he didn't require food. He changed course to sit at the same table as the newcomer.

He put his plate down and started to angrily stab at his meat. "It's terrible, isn't it? The raw power robbed from your limbs. Solid alloys replaced with soft, weak flesh. Precision construction replaced with... with organic replacements?