Now that the rest of them were out of the way, Zack forgot about them - as much as he could, at least - and put all of his attention onto the girl. What he hadn't been ready for was her grabbing at his sword, crushing her hand against the sharp edge. His eyes widened as he stared at the blood that wasn't like blood at all - pink sludge, really, and it dripped slower than it should have.

She pulled forward and he instinctively reeled away, not liking her eyes or... anything about her, really. His initial instinct upon first meeting her had been right. And she'd admitted it herself, that she wasn't complete. It reminded him a little too much of the failed experiments he'd seen down in the mansion's basement.

He had been so distracted that the poker jabbed at him faster than he could react. He jumped back, but it still got him, leaving him with a sloppy stab wound slightly above his left hip.

There was no Mako here. No heightened sense, speed, strength. He could rely on nothing but himself - there was no added chemical to increase his adrenaline and chase away the pain.

Zack's left hand went to put pressure on the wound, but he tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword, pulling it back behind his shoulder and then leaping forward to slash down at the girl. That forced her back. Now, he could make a run for the room and they could lock the door behind them.

Without thinking, he spun on his heel and bolted for the others.