John thought the doctor was worried about cyber psychosis.
Ryan shook his head.
He took off his rubber gloves and stood before the metal sink to wash up, faintly seeing John pacing in the clinic through the reflection on the tiles.
The doctor murmured, venting his complaints.
"Light footsteps, right? It's great being young, so many firsts to be excited about, but you'll get used to it eventually. Removing prosthetic limbs will be as common as changing a magazine."
Ryan seemed a bit weary.
He announced that the clinic will be closing for the day, then lazily reclined into a chair.
John was still examining the lines of his legs in the mirror — the muscle bundles made him stronger and more balanced.
"Move your ass, don't block the screen."
Ryan gulped down some alcohol, speaking with slight disdain.
"Prosthetic bodies can easily make one lose oneself, feel it? Overflowing strength, heightened senses... your kind suddenly becomes fragile."
