I don't often pop up to the D2 forums, but I had been working on this one for a while, out of boredom, and by some stroke of stupidity decided to share it with you all. Enjoy if you want. Piercing screeching sounds ricocheted off of the alleyway. A form, shadowed by a half-working street light, and blurred by rain, was still visible on the ground of the alley, overgrown by vines long ago. The man that made the form dragged himself further into the alley, keeping one hand on a wound in his side, and using the other to try to escape. He had run into a Hive Patrol in the EDZ, and a Knight’s sword had left him nearly immobile, having cut off his legs, and bleeding profusely from a gash in his abdomen. But that’s not why he was dragging himself from the scene as quickly as possible. Eliksni had arrived to scavenge the scene. The Hive were all dead now, but he wasn’t and intended to keep it that. Eliksni, however, had a different idea. His Ghost hovered beside, chirping worriedly. “Shh, shh. They’re close, stay behind me.” He whispered as he hid Poly, his Ghost, behind him, and propped himself up on the back of the alleyway, steeling himself, and stifling coughs. The vibrating sound of Eliksni blades was growing louder. He could see the iridescent blue glow from both the blades and the four eyes. A captain strode -skittered?- through the darkness. The blades on his hands still vibrating. He coughed, and blood came out. Well burn it all, he’s dying faster than he should. “Human.” The Eliksni captain growled. He made a show of sitting up painfully. “I do happen to be a human, my friend. I’d offer you a tea, but I think I've somehow misplaced my legs.” He said, stifling a cough. The captain -blam!- his head to one side and said something in the chittering language that the four arms spoke. “I have not ever tasted tea,” his tongue was finding its way around the new word, but he continued, “You may have guessed I am not here for beverage. I have need of armsmen. I have need of Human armsmen.” And the captain spoke no more, waiting for him. “Huh?” He said, not bothering to keep incredulity from his voice. “Why human? I don-” he stopped in the middle of his sentence, coughing up blood. An Eliksni skittered to his side, wrapping bandages around his gash and legs. Well, they weren’t gonna kill him. “I intend to make peace with your City. I can not do so without the support of humans. Perhaps even Guardia-” The captain stopped as the eliksni beside him gasped. Ah hell, they had found Poly, who floated up, spinning his shell defensively. “You are a Guardian? A Light-bearer? Why do you not heal? Why do you not simply come back?” The captain rasped as he and the other eliksni backed away. Might as well calm them down before a wire rifle round goes through his head. “Ah, Poly here doesn’t exactly… work. Poly’s mute. He doesn’t talk to me, revive me, and rarely heals me. I don’t think it’s his fault.” He shifted. Could he still feel his legs? He couldn’t tell. Perhaps it was the blood he lost. The eliksni listened, then simply stood and held out his hand. “I believe this is how humans agree to deals,” he said, “Join me, and we will fix you. That must sound like a good idea, yes?” “Oh, why the hell not?” He took the captain's hand. Poly woke him, though he hadn’t realized he had fallen asleep. He sat up, trying to figure out where he was. The room was round, and it looked completely metal. He sat on some sort of mattress, with a cloth blanket laying over him, though now it only covered his legs. Poly floated in front of him. The captain was in the room, sitting on a chair, watching him. His armor sat on a desk beside the bed, though his clothes remained on his body. “Well. This looks… much more comfortable than I thought it’d be.” “Oh?” The captain gave a low chuckle, at least he really hoped it was a chuckle, “What did you think it would look like?” He eyed the captain warily. “Err… More… bare, I think.” “Hmm. Perhaps. I keep my armsmen comfortable, unlike House Dusk. They rule by fear. I rule by loyalty.” “You rule? I didn’t expect that of a captain.” “You may not expect many things about me.” The captain gave a low chuckle again. He sighed and got out of bed. Or, he tried to. He stood, as one does while getting out of bed, but ended up falling. He had forgotten about his leg situation. It looks like the eliksni had done something, but hadn’t yet finished. He had what looked like metal caps on his hips, where they seem to have completely removed his thigh muscle. How asleep had he been, exactly? “Ah,” the captain said, helping him up, “We have not finished with, as you say, ‘patching you up’. You humans, you are different, though our doctors appreciate challenge.” The captain set him on the bed, and he didn’t argue. He was tired, after all. “I am called Misraaks. I lead my ketch. What are you called by?” He thought for a bit. Misraaks was an interesting character. Misraaks was kind, for a captain in a race of pirates. He was also knowledgeable about humans, meaning he had met them before. “No one ever gave me a name. I don’t often visit the Last City. I only know… 2 or 3 other humans personally who live there. I know a single guardian. The City doesn’t like to think about a Guardian who can’t come back.” Misraaks listened patiently. He stood suddenly and walked to the bed. “You will be Sraekt, called Found.” He strode out of the room just as suddenly, and he was alone. Eliksni were weird. Poly watched the door, then looked back at him, before settling back on the bed. Poly sat where his legs used to be. He sighed loudly and startled Poly, who just sat down again. He got the feeling Poly would’ve scoffed. The cloth blanket and fur mattress made him feel drowsy. He guessed it was warranted, seeing as he had lost his legs. He woke a second time, this time on some sort of table. The lights above him were blinding. It looked like some sort of surgery room, the kind the Last City citizens had set up when the walls were still going up. The machinery in the room was distinctly eliksni, with smooth forms and many of those strange glowing circles. An Eliskni stood over him, though he couldn’t see very straight with bright lights shining directly into his eyes. He tried to lift his hand, but he couldn’t feel it. So he was sedated. Oh! His legs! What the hell were they going to do with him? He wanted to go back to sleep and wake up in the fur bed, or perhaps in his bed, down in that abandoned Vault bunker. The Eliksni clicked and growled, and someone in the distance responded. The Eliksni over him sounded distant too. Wait, was that an Eliksni? It had to be, it had the mask… And he woke for the third time in what seemed mere minutes to him. He sat up in bed rather suddenly, throwing Poly off his chest. “Oh hell! Wild flaming hell! What were they doing to me!” He thrashes around in the bed, shouting more curses. His yelling and racket woke Misraaks, who was sleeping in a chair beside him. “Calm, Sraekt. We have spent much time adjusting replacement legs to your human biology, and have completed the addition. You can walk now. And I can sleep.” He got out of the chair and walked out of the room, not leaving any space for Sraekt to get a word in. He looked at Poly, but Poly just sat down again. This place may drive him insane. It took Sraekt a couple of days, but the Eliksni way around English became normal. They often still disoriented him by ending abruptly, but it was much less startling now. It took him a week or two to learn how to work his new legs. They were meant for eliksni who lost their legs, so the motion of walking and the whole problem of different nerve systems made it truly an adventure to walk. But, he figured it out. Eventually, he moved on from walking to running, which was a whole new... hurdle to jump. Which is what he did. He jumped, ran, sprinted, and got used to having mechanical legs, and a lack of fatigue. It was truly strange, not feeling fatigued. The Eliksni said the veins leading into his legs had been rerouted and fixed so that they wouldn't try to pump into his capped legs, though he had no idea how they knew to do that. Anyways, without muscles getting tired, Sraekt could run much longer than he was used to and even maintain speed longer. They were also good for kicking, according to Misraaks, but kicking didn't seem very useful when everyone had hundreds of deadly kinds of guns. When he could finally run, walk, and maneuver with relative ease, Misraaks began to teach him. Misraaks taught him to fight with blades, and to fire a wire rifle. He had his guns, from the Vault bunker, but seeing as he may not be able to reach them any time soon, he'd stick with what he got. Misraaks taught him of scrapworking, of Eliksni, or what he knew, and how they moved and acted. In the end, the eliksni prosthetics gave him surprising control over his stance, and he already thought of ways he could link the machine's 'nerves' with devices and other things to place in or on his legs. He may actually be figuring this whole "fighting for the Eliksni" thing out. As for now, he simply looked towards the next day, as he had done so many times waiting in the Vault Bunker he had called home.